Children of Titans, we eat our young, we eat our dead, but neither prove nourishing. The young— too ephemeral, flimsy, incapable of supporting the demands of bodies long ago transformed into monsters. But they taste like forgotten dreams soaked in the wine of half-remembered tears. The dead are made of tougher stuff, rugged and grizzled, like us; rusted through —vast cyclopean husks dotting the ashy terrain, seeping chlorine and formaldehyde into the pus-stained air of midlife. We eat our dead and we eat our young, and in our madness forget that we ourselves, in Dionysian fashion, were twice born.
About the author: Victor T. Cypert is a writer of short stories, poetry, and speculative nonfiction. His work has appeared in Lamplight Magazine, Illumen, and Wild Musette Journal. He is the second place winner of the 2017 Parsec Ink short story contest. He lives in Alabama.