“Pull over!” Cara yelled from the back seat to her mom, who was driving the car. “PULL OVER NOW!” Cara yelled again when her mom did not pull over immediately. Slightly alarmed at the green tinge in Cara’s complexion, her mom began to veer towards the edge of the road. Cara tried to hold back the resurgence of her recent dinner, but it came up as a full force geyser through her fingers and onto the back of the front passenger seat in pink and brown and green chunks. As the car stopped on the roadside, Cara threw open the door and fell to the ground. She continued to vomit in the grass there until her body heaves produced only the violent sounds of gastric rejection. As the wave of nausea ended, Cara noticed that ants from a nearby mound were already moving in to claim the bounty of regurgitated matter. She wondered how they would see her from down there, spewing forth a surplus source of food for their entire colony. If they were more cognizant creatures like humans, perhaps they would form some worship around the creature that provided so much for them. Maybe they would build a statue of her somewhere in their tiny tunnels and make food sacrifices to her image. Cara let the idea play out in her mind for a moment as her mom waited patiently for her to get back in the car. Then she did the only thing she could do in her new goddess capacity: She left her worshipers to clean up the mess.
NOTE: The brief narrative above was brought to you by TZ Books and The Bite-Size Fiction Project, created by Dave Baldwin and Sheila Lee Brown (this particular one is a Sheila-story). The results of this project are bite-size story morsels for short attention spans. These tidbits are sometimes fun, sometimes weird…but always short!