There is something truly repulsive growing next to the sidewalk outside my apartment.
I’m posting a picture of it that I took this morning, so I know I don’t really need to describe it for you. But I’m going to, anyway, because the image of it is stuck in my mind the way a popcorn kernel gets stuck between your teeth and works its way down into your soft gum tissue, and I’m pretty sure that the only way to rid myself of it is to turn and look full-on at its hideousness.
I think it’s a fungus of some type. Either that or a sentient alien life form that landed in the middle of the night last Monday and began to reproduce in hopes of colonizing the world, starting with Idaho.
It first appeared as a bulbous, mushroom-y, domed lump nestled in the gravel. Then, a few days later, without fanfare, it split open and The Abomination emerged.
Obviously phallic in shape (c’mon, people–there’s no sidestepping that observation), it stretches its pale white stalk towards the sky in search of…something. Possibly signals from the mother ship. Its head is covered in a dark green slime of dubious composition, which becomes, if possible, more disgusting every time I see it. The strange opening at its tip seems to sniff the air in a malevolent fashion (or maybe that’s just my overactive, X-Files-inflated imagination at work.) It’s hollow inside, and it feels kind of spongy. I know because…I touched it.
And I washed my hands afterwards.
For pity’s sake, will someone please tell me what this is? Because all my ideas are starting to frighten me.