jueves, 31 de agosto de 2017

The Green Year

I remember you staring at me with that annoyed conspicuous look you got when you thought I was being irrational.

"So what if our hands are a little green? What's so important about that?" you said. A little was an understatement and you knew it.

We had spent the past couple of weeks watching people rot around us. We assumed our own time was coming but decided to ignore the possibility anyway. "We could always chop them off and try selling them at the Farmer's Market. I'm pretty sure someone could make a smoothie out of them," I suggested. You didn't find it funny.

The greenish tone was only the beginning. Our skin would lose all elasticity and softness. It would start with small spots here and there, that would then grow and expand. Islands that would turn into continents and then one vast Pangea, until the necrosis took over completely.

At first, no one seemed alarmed. Doctors assumed it was caused by tropical food, brought home by naive tourists traveling from remote places. "Completely harmless. Nothing to be worried about," they declared on the news. Celebrities and politicians were just as exposed, and began showing it off like a trophy, claiming inclusiveness. Experts predicted it would go away on its own in the same style it had altered our lives, to begin with, but it didn't.

Eventually, limbs began to detach, causing road blockage and public safety hazards. The streets were suddenly filled with anonymous hands, and ears, and feet, and grief. You became an expert on dodging them every time we went for our walks, but you couldn't ignore them anymore. You couldn't pretend this didn't concern us. We were suddenly faced with the realization there was nothing else to do but to accept our new fate.

"What if it happens to me first? Will it smell?" you seemed curious.

"Maybe. I'll get you poppies to cover it up, though. The arrangements will be your new arms. You'll become the most stylish rotting model to ever grace the Earth" I answered.

"And what if it happens to you first?" You replied.

"Then I expect you to do the same."

That was the last time we ever talked about it.

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