Spores on the Wind

by Chris Clemens

When the mushroom sickness takes over, you’re conscious for a while. Awake. Paralysed. There’s a frantic back-and-forth while it seizes control of your muscles, puppeting limbs like an unfamiliar vehicle. Convulsions on the kitchen floor. If you’re lucky, loved ones will find and kill you.

If not, you might watch yourself vomiting fungal mould into your toddler’s Cheerios, stirring in the mess before anyone wakes up. Bones snapping, you’ll contort impossibly through neighbours’ crawlspaces and vents, retching out cinereous spores. You’ll shudder at the cunning of this alien intelligence dominating your body. At least the mushrooms can’t stop your tears.


Chris Clemens

Chris Clemens teaches courses about popular/digital culture in Toronto, where he lives with his wonderful family. His flash fiction has appeared in Invisible City Lit, Apex Magazine, and elsewhere.

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