My Bugged-Out Life

by Doombeez

Summary:

What would you do if the world started changing and you were the only one who noticed?

An average man by the name of Jon Gonzales finds himself struggling with that very question on the day that he woke up and found that every single person he knew had antennae. And it doesn't stop there. How does one cope with something like that? Do you go crazy, or just roll with it?

Notes:

Commissioned by kingleoric.

If you’re reading this, you’re almost certainly not going to believe it, so maybe don’t bother. I can’t imagine that you’ll get much out of it. Nothing you read here is going to fundamentally change the way that you live your life. Or at least, it shouldn’t. I don’t know what sort of person you are. I have no idea who might be reading it. Maybe one of my descendents. When I’m done, it’s going to go in the bottom of a box in somebody’s attic, or maybe a storage unit, and then it’s the problem of whoever finds it.  I think part of me hopes that nobody is ever going to read it and it just sits in whatever hole I stuff it into forever.

 

So then, hypothetical (or possibly nonexistent) reader, you may ask yourself why I’m even bothering.

 

That’s simple enough. It’s because I know I’m not crazy.

 

Yeah, I know, right? The motto of non-crazy people everywhere. But it’s true. 

 

If I told anyone in my life what I knew, there would be nothing positive that came from that. And I’ve got a good thing going here. Better than it’s ever been, really. But I have to tell somebody so that I don’t go insane. I can’t just let it live in my head forever.

 

Because, imaginary reader, the world is not always the way it is now. And I’m the only person who knows.

 

Well, maybe not the only one. Given the population, surely there must be one or two others. But certainly, I’m the only person I know who knows, and I don’t have the inclination to find out if there was anything else.

 

None of that changes the fact that the way things are now is not the way they were. It hasn’t even been all that long, in the grand scheme of things. And I’m sure of it. I’m as sure of that as I am of the existence of gravity. 

 

I don’t know why it happened. Magic? Aliens? The next stage of human evolution?  I’ll never know for sure, and it ultimately doesn’t matter. But it did happen, and I was the only one who saw it happen. And assuming I don’t chicken out and burn this document, this is my only statement on the matter. I’m going to shout my story into the void, and then I’m going to enjoy my life.

 

But I’m getting rather ahead of itself. Let’s start at the beginning. This all starts with an average guy having himself an average existence.

 

My name is Jonathan Alfonso Gonzales – everyone calls me Jon except my mom when she’s annoyed with me – and I am a perfectly ordinary human being. Two eyes, two arms, two legs, brown skin, everything you’d expect.

 

Or at least, I was at the time. 

 

The interesting part of this story started when I was thirty years old.

 

If I told you that I was a fat nerd that lived with his parents and worked in a fast food place, that would paint for you a pretty dismal picture of my life, wouldn’t it? Well, shame on you for making assumptions.

 

My parents have a guest house on their property, and when I had trouble making ends meet after college, they offered to let me move in. They respect my privacy and don’t drop by unannounced. I get a nice stable place to live, they get an extra pair of hands when needed, and everyone’s got their thing going on. So I’m on the husky side. So what? Nothing wrong with that. I like food, I’m not ashamed of how I look, and diet culture is a stain on existence. And hey, you like fast food don’t you? Somebody has to get it for you. Sure, food service isn’t my passion, but you don’t need to be passionate about the thing that makes you money. Plus, we’re unionized, so I’m treated well.

 

I have nothing to say in my defense about the nerd thing. I’ll own up to that. 

 

My strong opinions about video games aside, I could have had it a lot worse. That wasn’t to say that there weren’t things I would change, though. Aside from my little circle of friends, it’s hard for me to socialize. And yeah, one way I kind of live the stereotype is that I am chronically bad at talking to women. Yes, I know, they’re just people like everyone else, not some mysterious cryptid, it’s one thing to know all that empirically and another to feel tongue tied when a pretty girl that’s potentially interested is within five feet of you. 

 

So yeah, my life was just fine, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t want more out of it. 

 

Yes, I know, none of this seems relevant, but I feel like it’s important to establish some sort of status quo before we get to the weird part.

 

It started on a day like any other. I awoke one morning from uneasy dreams to find that I was about to be late for work. Normally, I like to have breakfast with my parents once a week just so we don’t get too distant and today was supposed to be that day, but I had forgotten that I’d agreed to cover a breakfast shift today. So I washed up, put on the first clothes I could grab, inhaled a protein bar, and left a quick note on my door so that they wouldn’t worry about me.

 

With that done, I got into Packrat, my piece of crap car that works well enough for getting me around town but makes a lot of suspicious noises if I drive it more than fifteen miles in one trip. All the while, I had this strange tingling sensation in my head, and I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.  But that was a thought to pursue when I wasn’t on the verge of being late.

 

I pulled up to the Burrito Barrel exactly two minutes before opening, and when I got there, a familiar face was leering at me.

 

“Morning, Mr. Sleepyhead. Nice of you to join us.”

 

Mickey was one of my most trusted friends, and I knew I could always trust him to have my back. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t engage in some good-natured razzing whenever the opportunity presented itself.

 

“Can it, Mick,” I said, as he let me in. “I forgot to set an alarm and didn’t… get to…”

 

I did a double take as I stared at Mickey. He was shorter and skinnier than me, with dark skin and close-cropped curly hair. He was dressed in the work uniform, which consisted of a shirt and apron bearing the logo and whatever pants and shoes were comfortable, within reason. Today he was wearing a hat that bore an emblem of a leaping bass and the phrase “Women Want Fish, Me Fear Me” which was new, but that wasn’t what I was staring at.

 

On Mickey’s brow were a pair of long, whip-like protrusions, almost like a pair of insectile antennae. 

 

“What is it?” he asked. “Something in my teeth?”

 

“Uh, Mick?” I asked. “What’s that on your head?”

 

Mickey looked at me like I was crazy. “What are you talking about?”

 

“What do you mean? I’m talking about the… you know.” And I tapped the side of my head. Realization dawned over his features.

 

“Oh, right!” He took the hat off and examined it. The antennae remained in place, though they were now standing up straighter without the brim of the hat in the way. “I found it in a thrift store yesterday and it made me laugh. If Kevin asks me to take it off, I’ll take it off, but until then, it stays.” Then he put it back on and chuckled.

 

“I wasn’t talking about that,” I said, holding up my hands. “I was talking about–”

 

“Oh hey, look what the cat dragged in.”

 

Coming out from the kitchen was Leroy, another friend. He was a bit older than me, tall and lanky and pale, with a bit of a metalhead vibe to his aesthetic with his shaggy hair (currently contained in a bun and covered by a hair net) and heavily tattooed arms. And he was rocking a pair of antennae too.

 

“Hope you’re ready to sling some breakfast burritos,” said Leroy. “They’re bogo today so there’s gonna be a crowd.”

 

I looked between the two of them, very perplexed. “Am I… being pranked?” I stammered. “Is there something funny going on?”

 

Leroy scratched his head in puzzlement, and his antennae actually twitched. “You okay, dude?” he asked. “You don’t look so hot. You sure you’re cool to work?”

 

“I’m cool, I’m cool,” I said, waving my hands. “I just really want to know about the–”

 

“Hey, are y’all open?”

 

“They should be, the sign says seven and it’s five past!”

 

All three of us swiveled around to see a pair of older women dressed up in jogging gear, both of whom also had antennae. 

 

I looked all around the room, feeling my head reel. I had no idea who these women were. If this was some kind of prank… well, I wouldn’t put it past Mickey, but he wouldn’t go so far as to recruit strangers for a bit.

 

“I think he’s having a stroke,” mumbled Mickey, jabbing the side of his arm. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

 

“I’m fine,” I said, a bit too quickly and too loudly. Everyone was staring at me, so I quickly added, “I need to use the restroom, excuse me.” I made my way there and locked the door behind me, then proceeded to splash some cold water on my face. And when my vision cleared and I looked in the mirror, it took all of my willpower to not scream.

 

Whatever was happening to them had happened to me too. Like everyone else in the room, I had a pair of my very own antennae. I stared for several moments. Then I reached up and gave one of them a little flick. I winced as that unpleasant tingling sensation returned, like pins and needles across my skull, and I had to brace myself against the sink until it passed.

 

“...What the fuck.”

 

Okay. Something really fucking weird was going on. And I had no idea what it was. But it would have to wait, because I still had work to do, and I wasn’t going to leave my friends hanging because I was having a weird dream or experiencing some kind of delusion. Those breakfast burritos weren’t going to serve themselves.

 

I came out just in time to see Mickey ringing up the joggers’ order.

 

“Let me just confirm that,” he said, as he tapped buttons on the register. “You want two sausage and egg burritos, two bacon and egg with no onions, an order of potato wedges, and a nectar smoothie?”

 

“I really shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself,” said one of the joggers, blushing.

 

That didn’t sound like anything we’d ever served in the years I’d worked here. Dreading what I would see, I looked up at the menu, and sure enough, it was right there, in block letters next to the usual offerings of tamarind, guava, and coconut.  The letters were even slightly faded the way the others were, because the menu really needed to be touched up.

 

“We’ll have that ready for you in a moment, thank you!” said Mickey, as I sidled behind the counter. Once the joggers had sat down, he quietly added, “You okay, J? Do you need to leave? I can handle it.”

 

I wanted to ask him directly. I wanted to say something about the antennae. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. 

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just slept weird. Besides, I wouldn’t leave my worst enemy to weather bogo breakfast burrito day solo.”

 

Sure enough, the door opened up and a number of people filed in, and all of them seemed to have antennae.

 

It was going to be one of those days. So I decided then and there that I was not going to be the first one to bring this up. Maybe there was some sort of flash mob going on. People still did those, right? Well, I wasn’t going to play along.  I’d get through my shift, go home, and then go home and dissociate for a few hours until all of this was over.

 

That never works as well as I’d like, but the thought kept me going through what was otherwise an uneventful shift. Not a lot of customers once the breakfast rush finished up, and the ones we got were very polite. Nobody even complained when I told them we were out of pickled onions. Really, it would have been a perfect day if not for the antennae.

 

I was out the door the second my shift ended and on my way back home. When I got into my car, I felt that unpleasant tingle again. I ducked my head down a bit and it stopped.

 

Ah. My antennae were brushing against the roof of the car. Of course that’s what it was. Silly me. One seat height adjustment later and I was on my way back home, and soon all would be well.

 

I was almost there when I got a text from my mom. She said it wasn’t a problem that I had to miss breakfast, and that they’d gotten pizza because dad didn’t feel like cooking. So maybe the day wouldn’t have been so bad after all. It’s hard to be completely upset with a day that has pizza in it.

 

I’ve always had a good relationship with my parents. They empathized with my struggles without ever talking down to me. So yeah, we got along, and I’d be happy to join them for pizza any day of the week.

 

“I’m home!” I said, as I made my way inside. “What did you–”

 

I saw them seated at the kitchen table, mostly looking how they normally did. There was my dad, stocky and heavyset like me, with a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and a clean-shaven face, eating his pizza with a knife and fork like always. And there was my mom, tall and athletic with the posture and grace of a former track star, black and gray hair tied into a neat bun, her body softened but not at all weakened by motherhood. 

 

You’ll notice I said mostly the same. You want to guess what was different about them? Go on, guess.

 

“You okay, JJ?” said my mom, her eyes full of concern. “You seem really out of sorts.” I don’t know how she picked up on that, since I’d barely said a word to her today. But I couldn’t help but notice that her antennae twitched as she spoke.

 

“You look a little pale,” said my dad. “Clearly you’re feeling pizza deficient. Fortunately, we have the cure right here.”

 

I shook the feeling of unease off. “I’m fine, but thanks. Work took a lot out of me. I’ll probably go to bed early.”

 

“Well, make sure you take some pizza with you,” said my mom.

 

“We’d hate for you to get pizza scurvy,” said my dad. “Pizzurvy, if you will.” Then my mom threw a balled-up napkin at him. I helped myself to a few slices and made my way back to the guest house, where I ate them and proceeded to immerse myself in video games until I felt tired enough to sleep. And as I felt myself drift away, I told myself, over and over again, that tomorrow was not going to be like today.

 

Unfortunately, that was going to be correct. I wonder if there was a monkey paw under my pillow that night or something.

 

~*~

 

I slept quite well that night, and woke up feeling refreshed. I had made sure to set my alarm correctly the night before, but I didn’t have work today. Still, I liked to get up consistently when I could. So get up I did, and I had slept so deeply and heavily that my vision was kind of bleary. I decided that what I needed was a nice long shower, and fortunately, the guest house has its own. So I got in and let myself soak in hot water until the whole bathroom filled up with steam. Once I was satisfied, I got out, dried off, and proceeded to go about my morning routine, which started with brushing my teeth. Or at least, that was the plan. With my electric toothbrush in one hand and my toothpaste in the other, I looked into the mirror, and I would have landed flat on my ass if I hadn’t caught myself on the sink.

 

It had to be a trick of the light. I couldn’t be seeing what I thought I saw. So I grabbed a washcloth and wiped off the foggy mirror, and stared at my reflection like I had never seen it before. Which I never had. Not like this.

 

The antennae were unfortunately still there. But now they had company. Above my eyes and slightly offset in either direction were another pair of smaller eyes, dark and beady like an insect’s.

 

After a moment, I shut my “main” eyes as tightly as I could, and found that I could still see.  Sort of. It was like the world had a filter over it, with some colors muted but others even sharper than before. I opened up again, and tried to process my view of the world. Now that I knew what to look for, everything seemed a lot more… vivid. I felt like I could make out a lot more detail in things. I normally needed reading glasses to discern small text up close, but now I was able to read the ingredients on the toothpaste tube with ease. And I could even–

 

Wait, hold on. Left hand, toothpaste. Right hand, toothbrush. But I had picked up a washcloth. And how did I catch myself on the sink if I had my hands full? 

 

Then I took a few steps back, and I could see it. I also had four arms now. Slowly and carefully, I folded the upper pair across my chest, and tried to focus on moving just the lower pair. 

 

It didn’t take much effort. I was able to pick up a loofah and toss it from one hand to another a few times easily. There was no adjustment period once I’d gotten over the shock of having them at all. It was like I had always had them.

 

That thought, ‘always had them’, got me thinking. Wrapping up in a towel, I made my way back to the bedroom and looked in my closet. All of the shirts in it had extra armholes. It would have taken one seriously dedicated prankster to break into my home and meticulously alter every single shirt I owned. As I pulled out one of them for a closer look, my glance happened to land on the wall, where there was a picture hanging, and I had to stop and stare. It was a photo that had been taken at a family reunion. There was me, my parents, and both sets of grandparents, looking as happy as a happy family could be. It had been a wonderful day. But that wasn’t what I was thinking about.

 

Grandma Gonzales was holding onto a set of grilling implements but also had her hands on mom’s shoulders. Grandpa Garcia had his arm over his wife’s shoulders but was also holding onto a bottle of beer and giving my dad a set of bunny ears. And my parents were holding both my hand and each-other’s, despite the fact that I was between them.

 

This picture was fifteen years old. But I could see it plain as day. Everyone in the picture – even my little cousins playing in the background – had four arms, four eyes, and antennae. 

 

If this was a prank, it was a more elaborate one than I could ever imagine. The photo was certainly genuine. I could still see the little scorch mark on the corner from where dad had nearly dropped a creme brulee torch on it. (Long story.)

 

Whatever was going on, I needed to get out before I had a stroke. I was pretty sure Mickey had the day off too, so I asked if he could meet me today, and thankfully for my sanity, he said yes. 

 

Breakfast was microwave burritos eaten in the privacy of my own space, because I wasn’t quite ready to face my parents, and once that was done, I made my way to the nearby park.

 

While I waited for Mickey, I did a bit of people-watching, and sure enough, everyone else I could see had the same features. I could see a group of people who were playing some very intense games of frisbee, tossing two discs at a time. There were some teens who were climbing a tree with more sureness than I could have ever managed before, using their extra arms for stability. If one of them started to swing from a web, I was going to just leave.

I didn’t get a chance to find out before Mickey arrived on his bike. He was holding onto the handlebars with his lower pair and gripping a pair of tall cups with the uppers.

 

“You sounded pretty stressed out on the phone,” said Mick, passing a cup over. “So I  stopped and got you an iced nectar. No need to thank me.”

 

There was that word again. I knew the definition, of course, but something about the way he used it made me suspicious. I pulled up the lid of mine and gave it a sniff. The liquid inside was a light amber color, very similar to honey, and was slightly more viscous than juice or soda would have been.

 

“I couldn’t remember what your favorite flavor was so I just got plain,” said Mickey. He had already started to sip his. “Hope that’s okay.”

 

I may have been  confused, but I wasn’t about to be rude to my best friend. “Plain’s fine,” I said, and then I replaced the lid and took a deep pull.

 

It was unbelievably delicious. It didn’t taste like honey, or like any fruit I could name. It was sweet but not cloying, and had a subtly botanical aftertaste. The ice made it incredibly refreshing, and I drank the whole thing down in under a minute.

 

“Sheesh, my dude,” said Mickey, smirking at me. He had his chin resting on his upper hands and was holding his drink with an upper. It was becoming increasingly clear that nobody had to think in the least bit before using either pair of hands. They just… used them. You don’t think about using your hands, it just happened. This was no different. It was like they had been born that way.

 

And as far as I could tell, they had been.

 

“So what’s on your mind?” asked Mickey. “You look like someone stepped on your grave.”

 

I looked into my best friend’s eyes. All four of them. Despite the creeping unease I felt, I didn’t want him to think I was delusional. But I had to say something .

“I just really needed to get out of the house,” I said, shrugging.

 

“Uh-huh.” I knew that face. Mickey could always see right through me, and that hadn’t changed at all.

 

“Okay, yes, something’s bothering me. This is gonna sound stupid as hell, though.”

 

Mickey shrugged. “Remember when someone canceled an order for ten burritos at the last minute and Leroy bet me twenty bucks I couldn’t eat all of them? I think I can handle stupid.”

 

“I hope that twenty bucks was worth the ninety minutes you spent in the bathroom the next day.”

 

“It was. Don’t try to distract me, dingus.”

 

I thought for a moment about how I was going to say this. “Alright, well. I had a dream that really freaked me out.”

 

Mickey smirked a bit, but credit to him, he didn’t laugh. He just gestured for me to keep going.

 

Well, in for a penny. “Well, in this dream, I got up, went to work, all the usual stuff. Everything looked normal, except all of the people around me had a horn.”

 

Mickey cocked his head at me. “A horn?”

 

I put a hand on my forehead. “Right here. Like a unicorn. A big sparkly one.”

 

“Damn, that’s wild.”

 

Now it was my turn to try not to laugh. “I know, right? Only I was the only one who noticed anything was different. Everyone else acted like they’d always had unicorn horns. And I was like, am I going crazy? Why is nobody talking about the unicorn horns?”

 

Mickey, to his credit, took a moment to think it over. “I think I’d feel like I was going insane if that happened,” he said. “But I dunno, what else can you  do but roll with it? Besides, I bet having a horn would be kinda cool.”

 

It wasn’t much of an answer, which was about what I expected from Mickey. But he wasn’t wrong. What exactly were my choices besides “roll with it”? Start ranting and raving? Maybe start a podcast? What would any of that get me besides ridicule? 

 

I was still thinking about it when I realized that someone else was coming closer to me. I couldn’t see them yet, but I was very keenly aware of a presence in my vicinity. I turned to see who it was and very nearly topped out of my seat.

 

It was a woman, dressed like she had been jogging. She had dark skin, hair done up in short dreads, and a stocky build. And  she was, not to be crude, a total knockout, and the extra parts did absolutely nothing to detract from this. 

 

So of course, I did what any reasonable man would do and froze like a startled deer. Any second now, she was going to ask me for the time, or maybe tell me to stop staring, and then be on her way. That was how my encounters with women usually went, and when that didn’t happen, I wasn’t sure what to do.

 

“Hey there,” she said, giving me a wave and a smile. “My name’s Casey. I hate to bother you, but I saw you sitting over there and you’re giving off some thoughtful vibes. I like thoughtful folks, and you look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

 

I couldn’t believe this. She was flirting with me. With no provocation whatsoever,. I wasn’t even trying to meet people here, I just chose the spot because it was a nice day. So my first instinct was to think that this was some kind of sick joke.

 

Yeah, I know. My self-esteem was horrible back in those days. Don’t worry, I’m doing a lot better now. Therapy helps, folks. But I digress.

 

In any case, I realized pretty quickly that it wasn’t. In fact, I could tell that she was genuinely interested in me, as clearly as I could tell what color her eyes were, and that she wanted to get to know me.

 

I couldn’t possibly have gotten all that from “I like your vibes”, could I have? For that matter, how could she even pick up on my vibes, especially from far away?

 

And then I saw that her antennae were quirked at odd angles and were twitching slightly. Had she used them to pick up on my mood? And had I picked up on hers? 

 

Okay, that was kind of neat, but I was more hung up on the fact that not only did she want  to talk to me, but she was interested in what I had to say. I felt myself fill with a powerful resolve.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Casey,” I said, offering her a hand. “I’m Jon. Do you come here often?”

 

If she found my cliched icebreaker tiring, she didn’t say so. What she said was, “Yeah, it’s my favorite place to run, and it’s such a nice day for it.”

 

“It’s a very nice park. You can probably tell that I’m not very athletic, but I like to come out here to read.”

 

Holy shit. I was doing it. I was talking to a girl. I felt like my heart was going to explode. 

 

Casey smiled at me and pulled out her phone. “Maybe we can chat later and you can tell me all  about what you’ve been reading?”

 

I pulled out my phone as well, and after we exchanged contact information, Casey was on her way.

 

“Fucking hell, dude! Look at you!” 

 

I had forgotten that Casey was there. I turned back to look at him and his eyes were wide.

 

“You didn’t even stammer once!” he said, punching me on the shoulder. “Where did all that come from? And can I have some?”

 

I smiled and shrugged. “Sometimes you have to go with the vibes, I guess.”

 

Mickey let out an amused snort. “Guess so, dude. So you gonna call her or what?”

 

I looked down at my phone, where I had just saved Casey as a contact.

 

“You know what? I am going to call her. First thing tomorrow.”

 

I was so excited that I almost forgot all about the whole transformation thing. After that, me and Mickey hit up one of our go-to chill spots, the local arcade, and while I was there, I let myself feel some people’s vibes.

 

There were two teenagers intensely battling it out on the Urban Brawler II cabinet. One of them was bringing a lot of intensity to the match, while the other was much more relaxed and confident. An older woman waiting for her turn on one of the dance machines was anxious about something. The clerk, a stone-faced fellow by the name of Anthony who said little and emoted less, was happy and content. And when I asked him how he was doing, something I had never done before, he told me that his cat had just had kittens and was happy to show me pictures. 

 

It turns out that it’s a lot easier to talk to people when you can walk into the conversation with an idea of how they were feeling. If someone wanted you to get out of their face, such as the guy whose drink I nearly spilled, they would make that known in no uncertain terms. And since Casey and Anthony had given me no such signals, I took it as a given that they would be willing to talk to me, and they were. Maybe there was some way to mislead people with antenna signals, however they worked, but I wasn’t going to assume that until I had proof of it.

 

All in all, it was a very good day. After me and Mick parted ways, I went home and had a quiet evening, trying to resist the urge to call Casey too soon. And as I went to bed, I thought to myself that maybe there were parts of this whole deal that wouldn’t be too bad. And besides, how much weirder could it possibly get?

 

I should have really known better than to tempt fate.

 

~*~

 

I braced myself for something else changing the next time I slept. I thought I would be ready for it.

 

I was wrong. I was so wrong.

 

Let me tell you, friends. Nothing gets you waking up with a start like getting up to go to the bathroom and finding your dick missing.

 

It took me some time to calm myself down after that. Thank god it was the weekend because otherwise I would have called in sick for sure.

 

Right, so. I’m sure you all know the drill right now, so I’ll skip to the interesting part. The first change I’d gone through was fairly simple. The antennae barely counted. The extra arms and eyes were a bit more dramatic, but you know what, fine. I still looked basically human, but with some extra parts. 

 

This morning, I still looked humanoid, at least. But each change was changing things more and more. The first thing I noticed was, of course, my dick. Or lack thereof. The second thing I noticed was that parts of my body were now covered in something like chitin. Particularly, my forearms and hands, my waist, and my legs, instead of ordinary flesh, were now made up of glossy black chitin. It wasn’t hard, like I had feared. The texture was strange, a little bit like leather, but it was yielding when I poked it. And just as a cherry on top, I also had a fluffy little ruff around my neck, like a honeybee. But the most dramatic change was behind me. 

 

Right around where my tailbone would have been, I had an abdomen. Not like a human abdomen, but like a bug abdomen. A large, oval-shaped protrusion, maybe about two feet long and just about as wide as my hips, covered with that same dark chitin. It was definitely part of me. I felt what it felt, as I learned when I backed up into a wall. But I  also realized that it felt pretty bloated, and I couldn’t figure out why.

 

I didn’t have long to think about it before a sharp cramp sent me to my knees. There was a stabbing pain going through my abdomen, like a stomachache except, y’know, not my stomach. I would have done just about anything for some relief, but I had no idea how I would even start.

 

But even if this body was new, its instincts were not, and after trying my best to weather the pain, I felt a very strange urge. With a deep groan, I pulled myself up and sat on the edge of the tub, letting my abdomen hang over it properly, and once this was done, I got the strangest sense of a pressure building up inside of me. And what’s more, if this pressure was not released soon, then I was going to blow up. So that’s what I did. And so, gripping the edge of the tub, I did what felt right, and what felt right was that I needed to push.

 

It felt tough and uncomfortable, like I was severely constipated, and at first I thought that’s what was happening. But as I gave into the urge and started to work with my new abdominal muscles, I felt something begin to slide free as my body opened up. It took some effort, but once I’d gotten over the initial cramping, that’s when the really fucked up thing happened.

 

It started to feel kinda good.

 

I had just about finished that thought when whatever it was popped out of me. I turned around to look, and there sitting in the tub was a capsule-shaped egg, about the size of a large potato.

 

Throughout this whole very bizarre period of my life, I think it’s safe to say that this was the closest I ever came to an actual panic attack. I probably would have crossed that line if not for the fact that I started to feel myself cramp up again, and then I had to focus once again on pushing.

 

When it was all over, my skin was flushed and moist, I was panting like I’d gone for a run in lead pants, and there were three eggs in the tub.

 

I wasn’t freaking out, but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly either. The first thing I thought was that I had to get rid of them somehow, so I scooped them up and dashed out to find something to put them in.

 

And as if things couldn’t get any worse, that was the moment when the door opened up to reveal my mom.

 

“JJ, are you okay? I heard you shouting!”

 

She normally didn’t barge in without me saying something, but her brain tended to short circuit when she was worried about someone. Me and dad both think it’s one of her endearing qualities, but did it have to kick in right now?

 

Time came to a halt as I tried to figure out what to say. What do you say to your mother when she walks in on you naked and holding an armful of eggs that you just pushed out of your body? “I can explain” wouldn’t work because I could not, in fact, explain. “It’s not what it looks like” was a bad choice too, because I have no idea what it looked like. Was I going to have to tell her that she was a grandmother?

 

But I was saved from needing to say anything at all when she broke the silence by letting out a deep huff.

 

“Honestly, JJ. I know what it’s like to have a difficult lay as much as anyone, but you sounded like you were about to have a stroke in here. You scared the life out of me!”

 

Ah. So this was a normal thing. Of course it fucking was. I felt an emotion that I couldn’t describe, living in a strange space between relief and annoyance. It was  better than panic, at least, and it gave me the opportunity to really look at my mom.

 

Unsurprisingly, she had changed as  well, just as I’m sure everyone else had. Same chitinous limbs and lower body, same insectile abdomen. She had some red markings amidst her black chitin, but it was in all the same places.

 

Oh, and she was also naked. But the weirdest thing about that was how little it bothered me. Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m not some kind of prude, but look me in the face and tell me you wouldn’t be a little bit put off if you suddenly saw your mom naked. Yeah, that’s what I thought.

 

But there was none of that there, no sort of reflexive reaction. It was like, I have a body, she has a body, same thing. No big deal.

 

Maybe it was helped by the fact that she, like me, was as smooth as a doll between her legs. Who can say?

 

“Sorry about that,” I said. “It was just, um. Really stubborn this time around. It took me by surprise.”

 

My mom sighed. “Happens to the best of us, I suppose. And I’m sorry I barged in. Do you want  me to take those to the disposal bin for you?”

 

That threw me off for a second, but if disposing of them was normal enough that people had bins for it, then that meant I wasn’t making our family bigger today. Thank god for that.

 

“I’ll take ‘em, thanks. Sorry again.”

 

My mom waved me off. “No hay problema. Happens to the best of us. I had a malform last week and I would have been struggling with it for hours if you father hadn’t been there to–”

 

“Mom, please ,” I interjected. Okay, that  made my skin crawl a bit. It was good to know that I still had some taboos.

 

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “I can’t help it. Your cheeks flush so adorably when I embarrass you. So do you have any plans for the day? I’m washing sheets today, and if you’ll be out of the house, I can do yours while I’m at it.”

 

“Mom, you’re not my maid.”

 

“Shut up and let me help. So?”

 

I felt my cheeks redden again as I remembered that I did, in fact, have plans. “Um. I actually have a date. I think. Don’t be weird about it.”

 

Her features went very intensely stoic, and I could tell that she wanted to be weird about it. “That is very nice for you, son,” she said. “I hope that it proceeds in a satisfactory manner.”

 

“You can squeal while I’m out of the house,” I said, rolling my eyes at her. But I was also smiling. 

 

“Whatever you say, my progeny. Beep boop.”

 

Then she winked at me and shut my door. I let out a breath as I heard her leave. Then I went out to where the trash cans were, and in addition to garbage and recycling cans, there was a third can with a stylized icon of an egg on it, so I deposited them in there and tried not to think about it again. 

 

When I got back to my room, I saw that I had a text from Casey suggesting a time and a location. It was a cafe I wasn’t familiar with that was a bit further into town. I thought about it for a moment, but realistically, I wouldn’t turn down my first real date since high school if she had asked if we wanted to have it on the moon. Still, I wasn’t comfortable driving Packrat that far, and that meant public transport.

 

If I’d known what it was I was going to see when I got there, I might have made the effort all the same. 

 

When the time came, I washed up, didn’t get dressed (because apparently that was cool now so why not) and made my way to the nearby bus stop just in time to get picked up. I wasn’t exactly surprised to see the bus full of people who were just as buggy as me, but it did throw me a bit to see so many of them at once. The bus was different, too. The seats were all a bit further apart than I was used to, and each of them had enough room to accommodate an abdomen. And while everyone was still casually nude, a few folks were wearing accessories, like hats or scarves.  So that was a thing, at least.

 

I sat down and prepared to let myself zone out, as was typical when I rode the bus anywhere. But it was hard not to notice what was directly in front of me.

 

On the seating across from me were two women – one with short blonde hair, the other with a frizzy red mop – and they were intensely making out in broad daylight. The area I live in has always been on the liberal side, but not that liberal. Typically such a display would have been, if not quashed, then at least  thrown some disapproving glances. But nobody was paying them any heed. There was a man to their right who was reading, and the woman to their left was playing some kind of game on her phone.

 

I didn’t mean to stare, but I couldn’t help it. They were really going at it. This was not just some playful smooching. There was tongue involved. And if that hadn’t been enough, they were also casually groping each-other’s breasts and rubbing their bodies against each-other.

 

I was still looking when one of them opened one eye and looked at me, and I was about to apologize and turn away. But not only did she not say anything, she gave me a smirk and a wink before going back to making out.

 

Did she… want me to watch?

I won’t say I felt less weird about not turning away as they went at it. Less guilty , for sure, but not less weird. They were pressing their bodies against each-other now, letting their hands wander, and I watched as the blonde began to shift their posture a bit, standing up and sliding her abdomen down between her legs (guess those were more flexible than I thought), and as she did, I could get a clear view of the end of it. I didn’t know what the right word for it would have been, but it was dripping wet.

 

Her partner looked down and smirked, and she too pulled her abdomen down, and the two of them intertwined in such a way where their respective tips could kiss. They parted for just long enough for me to see some kind of appendage emerging from Red’s entrance and slipping into Blondie’s, and she proceeded to throw her head back and gasp as it happened.

 

The positioning was unfamiliar and the anatomy was bizarre, but there was absolutely no mistaking the fact that they were fucking. On a public bus. Full of other people. And not one of them paid them any heed.

 

No, wait, that’s wrong. There was a young man a few seats down who had his head craned to watch, as he stimulated his own… pussy? Cloaca? Egg-hole? Whatever it was, he was using a little vibrator on it as he watched the two women.

 

I was too stunned to get horny about it. What the hell was up with this world?

 

A woman wearing a hat featuring the bus’s logo came up and tapped them on either shoulder, and they both looked up. I guess the fun was over after all, so maybe–

 

“We’ll be at your stop in about fifteen minutes,” she said, tapping her watch. “And we’ll be at yours in about twenty.”

 

Wait. They were getting off at different stops? Did the two of them even know each-other?!

 

“We’ll finish up soon,” said Red, giving a nod.  “Thanks for the heads up.”

 

“No problem. And if either of you have eggs, please do not deposit them on the bus.”

 

“Understood,” said Blondie, before putting all of her attention back to Red while they continued to fuck, faster and with more intensity than before.

 

My stop was much closer to theirs, and when the bus came to a halt, I got off a bit more quickly than I probably should have done. I let myself collapse onto a bench as I caught my breath, watching the bus depart.

 

So, from this event, I could infer that the changes that were coming over people were more than just physical. There was some kind of cultural transformation that had occurred as well. I didn’t know if it was a pheromone thing or what, but people were suddenly way more blase about sex and nudity than they had ever been in my life.

 

I couldn’t help but wonder what this was going to say about my date.

 

Thinking about the date jolted me back to reality. The existential freak out could wait until I got home. I had a date to get to.

 

I was only a few minutes late, and Casey was already there, but seemed unbothered. She was just as buggy as anyone else, with golden highlights on her black chitin, and just as nude. Maybe I’m imagining things, but I’d swear that her breasts were bigger than they were the other day, too. 

 

Then again, if I am imagining things, then they probably go deeper than just thinking about boobs, so I should not go down that rabbit hole.

 

“Sorry I’m a little late,” I said, as I waved her down.

 

“It’s no trouble at all,” she replied, beaming at me. “I'm glad you could make it. Sorry if it was a bit out of the way for you. I’ve gone ahead and gotten us a seat.”

 

We made our way inside of the Honeycomb Diner, and it was a cozy-looking little place. Not too much different from any other diner I’d been to, if I ignored the people who were almost certainly having sex in the corner booth. Which I tried to. At least they were being quiet about it.

 

“Welcome, welcome!” said the waitress, beaming brightly at us. “My name’s Tina and I’ll be taking care of you today. Can I get you started with some drinks?”

 

I hadn’t even gotten a chance to look at the menu before Casey spoke up. “Do you have fresh nectar today?”

 

“I think so! Lemme check.”

 

She scooted off, her abdomen swaying from side to side as she left.

 

“Sorry to cut you off there,” said Casey. “But the nectar here is really good. It’s most of the reason I brought you.”

 

That was interesting. Every eatery I’d seen since things started changing had some kind of nectar product on offer. Nectar smoothies, nectar lattes, nectar gelatin, you name it. But this was the first one I had been to that offered fresh nectar, so maybe that would get me some answers.

 

A different waitress approached the table. She was a bit more mature-looking than Tina, and a lot curvier. It was hard not to notice that her breasts were almost twice as big. They were very plump and heavy-looking, and sagged quite a bit.

 

“Good afternoon,” she said. “We had an order for two fresh nectars here?”

 

“That’s us, yes,” said Casey. “Thank you very much.”

 

“You are very welcome. My name is Mariah and it will be a pleasure to serve you.”

 

A pair of empty glasses had been placed on our table before we’d arrived, and I watched as Mariah picked up one of them and held it to her breast. Wait, I thought to myself, was she really going to–

 

And indeed she was. With a free hand, she began to massage her large, dark areola, and from the thick nipple was expelled a steady stream of amber-colored liquid, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Why wouldn’t it be? Everything else happening here was. 

 

It took her about two minutes to fill Casey’s glass. Then she switched breasts and proceeded to fill mine, humming tunelessly as she milked herself.

 

“Would either of you like ice?” she asked.

 

“I’m good, thank you,” said Casey. “How about you?”

 

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice cracking just a little. A moment later. Mariah was done, and each of us had a full glass in front of us. She continued to stand there, almost expectantly, as Casey picked up her glass.

 

“Cheers,” she said, holding it up toward me. After the slightest of hesitations, I picked up my glass and clinked it against hers, and we both took a sip.

 

Nectar was good. Ever since Mickey had treated me to a cup, I’d taken several opportunities to get it, in a variety of flavors. At most places, you could get it with some kind of fruit or spice added to it, and I’d tried a lot of them. (I was particularly fond of this one I’d tried with a bit of orange and ginger added to it.)

 

None of those tastes compared to how it was fresh. The flavor was much more robust and complex, with a lot of subtle notes. It was so good that I very quickly found myself unable to care that a woman had just squeezed it out of her tit.

 

“This is excellent,” said Casey, regarding Mariah as she set her glass down. For good measure, she pulled a small bill out of her purse and tipped her.

 

“Thank you very much,” said Mariah, giving us both a bright smile. “Tina will be back shortly to take your orders, and if you’d like a refill, don’t hesitate to ask.”

 

“I don’t know what they give to the servers  here,” said Casey. “But you won’t find better nectar anywhere for miles around. I’d come here just for that, but the food’s pretty good too.”

 

A quick glance at the menu showed that they had an assortment of perfectly normal diner food, and despite trying to take every strange thing I encountered in stride, I felt a sense of profound relief. I ordered a perfectly ordinary burger and was happy for it.

 

“So what do people talk about on dates?” I asked. “I mean, assuming this is one. I don’t want to–”

 

“It can be if you’d like,” said Casey, winking at me. “Guessing you don’t have a lot of experience there. You’re feeling kind of nervous today. But it’s okay. Relax. There’s no pressure today, alright?”

 

And just as she could sense my nerves, so could I feel the earnestness she was giving out. That helped a lot. “Well, all I really have on my mind is the games I’ve been playing and the anime I’ve been watching. And you probably don’t want to hear about that.”

 

Casey smiled and leaned in. “Actually, I’d love nothing more than to hear about what you’ve been watching. My job keeps me too busy to watch stuff.”

 

Wow. She really meant that. These antennae made reading people a lot easier.

 

“Well. Have you ever heard of Radical Princess Miki-Niki? The new season just started.”

 

And as we ate our food, I regaled her with the broad strokes of RPMN. Casey listened attentively and asked leading questions when needed.

 

“Wait, hold on,” she said. “I thought Princess Timberwulf was the only one that could wield the Axe of the Ancients?”

 

“See, that’s what they wanted us to think, but it turned out that her father, King Ulfric, wasn’t dead after all, and he was secretly behind… are you okay?”

 

Casey suddenly made a face, and I could feel the sudden and abrupt discomfort coming off of her. And for once, I didn’t automatically assume that it was because I had done something wrong. 

 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just… whoof. I thought I had a few more days but my cycle’s starting a bit early.”

 

I blinked, not sure what she was talking about. “I see. Do you need to go home or what?”

 

Casey shook her head. “I don’t think I can make it, unless I want to lay in the street. And you know what a mess that would be. I think I’m going to have to do it here.”

 

She looked up and over her shoulder, toward what I thought were the bathrooms. But now that I looked more closely, the two different icons on the doors were not, as I’d assumed, abstracted figures of a man and a woman. Rather, one door’s emblem featured a stylized toilet,  and the other was an egg.

 

Aha. That kind of cycle.

 

“It’s okay, don’t let me stop you,” I said. “I’ll be right… here?”

 

I trailed off as Casey put her hand in mind.

 

“Would you like to help?”

I wasn’t sure if this was a normal first date sort of question in this new world I found myself in, or if Casey really liked me. But in that moment, if I’m going to be perfectly honest with myself, t I didn’t particularly care.

 

Moments later, I was sitting with Casey in the egg room. It was a lot cleaner and comfier than I would have expected a public facility to be. It had soft padded floors, a sink to wash up in, a disposal bin, and also, I couldn’t help but notice, an inconspicuously-placed drain.

 

Casey was kneeling down with her backside facing me, taking deep and slow breaths, and I was sitting down right behind her. Her abdomen was pulsing gently, and her pussy – I decided I was going to call it that until someone corrected me – was bulging outward and dripping wet. For most people, it was tightly closed up and hard to notice unless they were either turned on or about to lay an egg. And if I was reading her pheromones correctly, Casey was both.

 

“How are you feeling?” I asked, as I ran a hand over the swollen protuberance, which was warm to the touch.

 

“Very good,” she said, looking over her shoulder and grinning with me. “Laying is always so much more fun with help, don’t you think?”

 

“Definitely,” I said, because despite my lack of evidence, that very much seemed to be the case. Then Casey groaned a bit, and her pussy discharged a spurt of clear, viscous fluid, which splashed onto my chest and stomach. It was very warm and tingled a bit on my skin, and I liked it. Casey seemed to as well.

 

“You look good wearing my fluids,” she said, a lustful edge on her voice, and I swore I could feel myself getting wet as she spoke. And I got the feeling that, even if you took the world’s casual attitude toward sex into account, Casey was a bit kinky. 

 

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

 

“Rub my egg hole,” she said, her voice breathy as she braced herself. “I can feel one coming…”

 

And I did just that, holding onto her abdomen with my lower hands while I started to rub her entrance. Fuck, it felt so hot and slick, and the way it gripped my fingers was indescribable. I was probably clumsy as heck, but Casey didn’t seem to mind. She started to moan and continued to drip fluids, so much that it started to run down my arm.

 

“Nngh… hey, Jon?”

 

I looked up upon hearing my name.

 

“This might be a little bit much for a first date,” she asked. “But can I lay on you?”

 

I very much appreciated the confirmation. And maybe this was a bit much for my first real experiment with my new bits, but right now, I’d have done anything she asked. My body may have changed, but my libido was still very much intact. Soon, I was laying back prone on the ground with Casey’s pussy inches away from my face, slowly swaying from side to side. And she had gotten into position just in time, because a moment later, she started to let out a long, sustained grunt as her pussy opened up, stretching around a large egg. She held onto the push until it softly dropped onto my chest with a splash of fluid.

 

“This is so hot,” she panted. “I can already feel the next one!”

 

“Can I use my mouth on you?” I quickly asked, not knowing or caring how strange that sort of thing was. But Casey moaned her affirmation, and soon I was using my tongue (much longer than I was used to, couldn’t help but notice) all over her until it started to contract again, at which point I pulled back just enough to let another egg drop onto me.

 

“You’re doing so good,” she purred, waving herself enticingly at me. And then I felt a little shock of pleasure, and realized that she was touching me, too. 

 

I did not have much experience in these matters. The closest thing to sex with another person that I’ve done in my life was me and Mickey watching porn together while high and doing some heavy petting. So while I didn’t have much experience to draw on in the realms of things that felt good, I can tell you that this felt way better than my hand. I was so lost in the buzz of pleasure that I didn’t notice another egg coming out until I felt more fluid hit me.

 

I just lay there stunned for a moment as Casey turned around. She admired me for a moment, then leaned in to give me a kiss on the forehead before scooping up her eggs and dropping them in the disposal bin.

 

“I haven’t had a lay that good in ages,” she said, smirking at me. 

 

“It was good for me too,” I replied, and yeah, it was kind of a lame reply, but she laughed, so I can’t complain.

 

“Well, we’ve got this room to ourselves,” she said. “And I did work you up. Want to have a little more fun?”

 

There was no hesitation this time, not even for a second. “Do you mind taking the lead?”

 

“Oh, I was hoping you’d say that.” With that, Casey positioned herself over me and crouched, using her arms to brace herself against the wall, and I could feel her entrance just barely brushing against mine.

 

“So do you want to give or receive today?” she asked, and I wasn’t sure how to answer, because I still wasn’t quite up to date on how my body worked. But the whole “I would do anything she asked” thing was very much still in effect, so after a couple seconds, I said, “Receive, please.”

 

“Oh, I was hoping you’d say that.”

 

She closed her eyes for a moment, and I watched as a long and slim appendage unfolded from her opening, emerging from an unseen sheath, and it began to twitch as it engorged to its full size. Holy shit, it was prehensile. 

 

“Not too hard, please,” I quickly said, as Casey once again pushed our bodies together. She just smiled and nodded as she was pressed against me, and the moment I felt her penetrate my hole was a shock to my system, a jolt that rushed into my body via my abdomen and filled me with pleasure. Casey’s body didn’t move much, but it seemed like she didn’t need to as I felt her long, slender, and very flexible dick wriggle about within me. It was like someone had released a live snake into my body after feeding it a triple espresso, and it felt so good that I had no chance of lasting. And so I didn’t. My last coherent thought was hoping that the walls were soundproof as I started to shudder and moan, feeling my walls contract as my body expelled some of its own fluid.

 

I worried for a moment that she would be disappointed, but as she leaned down and kissed me, I quickly realized that this wasn’t the case.

 

“You were really pent up, huh?” she said. “I guess it’s been a while.”

 

Oh, she had no idea. “Something like that, yeah.”

 

She laughed and offered me a hand. “It’s nice to know that I have that effect on people. You want to clean up and get dessert? They do a great ice cream soda with nectar sauce.”

 

We got dessert, left the diner, and prepared to part ways. But first, we shared one more kiss, and Casey expressed some interest in seeing me again.

 

I got the distinct impression that sexual exclusivity was not a given in this newly bugged-out world. But Casey was very genuinely interested in me, and that was more exciting to me than the promise of more intense sex in egg rooms. 

 

She smiled and wrapped her arms around me, and I could feel the lower pair rubbing my abdomen. “Maybe we can watch Radical Princess Miki-Niki together.”

 

That might just have been the sexiest thing a person had ever said to me.

 

~*~

 

I woke up the next morning prepared for the worst, and found that things were more or less the same as how they were when I went to bed. Granted, I was still a bug person, but I was the same type of bug person that I had been when I went to sleep the night before. I think I gained a little bit of weight, particularly around my belly and my chest, and my abdomen was definitely a little bit bigger. But aside from that, no dramatic changes. Was this it? Was it over?

 

Of course not. I’m still writing, aren’t I? ‘Cause you see, people changing was only the beginning. Because you can’t just turn a regular old human into a big ol’ bug with a big ol’ bug booty and expect them to fit into the world exactly as well as they had before. Case in point, multiple instances of seeing people get their abdomens stuck in a door that was a bit narrower than they’d expected it to be.

 

I think there was some part of their bodies that still remembered their basic shape and hadn’t yet begun to fully account for the change in spatial awareness that the bug booty required. And it was very funny to watch happen. It’s okay for me to say that because it’s happened to me a couple times. But I digress.

 

My point is, whatever force was changing us, it didn’t take it long to realize that the world needed changing in order to better suit us. So I got a few weeks off from any dramatic transformations, and they were pretty good weeks.

 

I was right about her not expecting us to be sexually exclusive, but Casey was still happy to call herself my girlfriend. And I think I was okay with that. Not long after our first date at the diner, I saw a cute guy coming out of the gym. I’m not sure if I’ve always liked guys and just never realized it or if this is another effect of the transformation, but whatever the reason, he was cute. So I asked if he wanted to have a little fun, he did, and we did. And when I told Casey about it later, she asked for details and told me about a similar encounter. So that was apparently normal.

 

I started getting a lot more outgoing, too. I convinced Mickey to come with me to join a local board gaming club, and I met a lot of cool people there. And yeah, while there is occasionally some casual sex involved, mostly we just played board games and it was pretty great.

 

I even started hanging out with my parents a little more. We talked about our days and the people they met, they absolutely loved Casey, and if I occasionally saw an unfamiliar car in our driveway that was gone the next morning, that was nobody’s business but theirs.

 

So yeah, things were good. I had a routine, and that routine started to feel normal, even if it included needing to lay a few eggs every ten to fifteen days. 

 

The first sign things were getting weird was the day Casey invited me to come to her sister’s candle party.

 

“I’m sorry, her what?” I said, before I could stop myself. I’d gotten pretty good at navigating around things that were ‘common knowledge’, but I still tripped up a bit every now and then.

 

Fortunately, she just giggled. The two of us were in her bed together and cuddling after a particularly vigorous session of canoodling. 

 

“I guess that term’s not as widespread as I thought,” she said. “My older sister is trying for a baby. Candling, you see? I mean, nobody’s actually used candles to check eggs for viability in decades, but you know how it is when a cute name sticks.”

 

I laughed too, because you have to, and I told her that I’d love to come. And that night, I did something that I’d gotten used to doing more and more of whenever I had a slip, and that was do an internet search.

I have to admit, it wasn’t the first time I wondered how reproduction worked. I still see kids around on occasion. Mostly they didn’t show up in the same places I went to hang out because people didn’t take their kids to places where public sex was likely, but I still saw them, so they had to come from somewhere.

 

With all the sex I’d seen people having, nobody ever said anything about protection, and we still laid nothing but duds. And there didn’t seem to be any huge population booms that I could spot, so presumably people weren’t having three to six kids at a time.

 

How it worked was, if you wanted a kid, you would take a pharmaceutical drug that would kick your egg production into overdrive, and then you would get penetrated by your chosen partner. Then, during your next egg cycle, you’d lay a lot more of them than usual, and there was a chance that one or more of them would be viable enough to develop into a person. Yeah, pretty weird, but what else is new? A radical change to the human life cycle was just par for the course at this point.

 

Brief sidebar: When I learned that, instead of going through puberty, teenagers apparently spun a cocoon and woke up a year later having finished the process, I was jealous. If I could have just slipped into a pod and skipped all the awkwardness and acne, I would have turned into a bug ages ago.

 

So yeah, eggs. That was the way things worked, and of course, how they had always worked. And what with people being people, we’d found a way to make it fun. Hence, candle parties.

 

I agreed to go. Didn’t even have to think about it this time. I was trying to not just tolerate but embrace the strangeness of the new world. Not that I always succeeded, mind, but I was trying. Just because I freaked out when I took a wrong turn at Mickey’s place and walked in on where they were keeping his little brother’s pod didn’t mean I wasn’t trying, okay? 

 

…Ahem. Anyway.

 

At first, it didn’t seem all that different from a similar party in the before-times. Not that I’d ever been to one before, but I’d seen them on TV. Close enough. Me and Casey went to pick up a gift for the impending little one (and had a threesome with a clerk in the dressing room, because you have to keep life interesting) and went to this lovely little number in the suburbs where Casey’s sister and her partners lived. And you know what? I was actually looking forward to this. Since there was going to be a lot of closely-related family attending, there would be no sex, meaning that I wouldn’t have to worry about getting blindsided by random acts of depravity. With my head held high, I rang the doorbell, and an older-looking woman whose humanoid features were similar to Casey’s greeted us and ushered us inside.

 

It was not what I expected, to say the least. But that’s on me. I should know better by now.

 

When we got inside, what I saw inside of the house was like a set from a schlocky scifi-horror movie, if the set of a said movie also had family photos, Live Laugh Love signs, and a display case full of tiny ceramic frogs. 

 

All of the interior fixtures and furniture, rather than being made of wood or cloth or what have you, was now made from some kind of resin, mostly in dark reds, yellows, and browns. Where padding was needed, there was some kind of gel cushion made of a similar substance. And if that wasn’t enough, when we made our way into the living room, I saw the eggs.

 

They were much bigger than any that me or Casey had ever laid. Rather than the little white capsules I was used to, these were a darker off-white and were a size comparable to a large watermelon. And they all had something drawn on them. Mostly it was red Xs, but some of them were adorned with angry faces. One had been elaborately painted to resemble a time bomb. Another just had “BAD EGG” written on it. All of them were secured in place with another kind of resin, one that was thin and fibrous, and some were even stuck to the walls with it in clusters.

 

The room was full of people chatting with each-other and nibbling on finger foods, but I barely paid them any heed compared to the center of attention, who regarded us as soon as we came in the door.

 

“Casey! You made it!”

 

“You had any doubts? You wound me. I should take my gift and go.”

 

“Hah! Still a big ol’ bitch, I see!”

“Not as big as you! No, seriously, you look incredible.”

 

 Then they had a heavy laugh together and Casey turned and beckoned me forward. “Hey, c’mere and meet my sister! Jon, this is Rosa.”

 

Rosa looked similar enough to casey. They had the same dark skin and frizzy hair. But Casey was huge . She must have had a hundred pounds on anyone else. Her breasts were enormously plump and sagged low over her thick and full belly, and her hips and thighs must have been half again as thick as Casey’s. And that was just her humanoid parts. Her abdomen was twice as big as any I’d ever seen before, and it looked incredibly swollen. She was laying on her side on an enormous lounge, and her abdomen was  resting on the floor atop a large cushion.

 

I knew I was gawping, so I tried my best to recover. “Nice to meet you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, you just look… good. Very good.”

 

“See, I told you,” said Casey, lightly socking her sister on the arm. “Motherhood suits you!”

 

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” said Rosa, making a dismissive gesture. “I’m not a mother yet. Don’t want to start counting my chickens, y’know?”

 

“I’ve got a good feeling,” said Casey, tapping her head. “How many batches have you had so far?”

 

“Three, and they’re all blanks,” said Rosa. “I guess we’ve got all day, but we might… we might… hoo… might just…”

 

Rosa suddenly stared off into the middle distance, and her breath started to grow quick and shallow. To my eyes, she looked like she was about to be sick, but if that had been the case, I imagine Casey wouldn’t have been so excited.

 

“Hey, everyone!” she called out. “I think she’s having another one!”

 

There was a brief ruckus as the party-goers all gathered ‘round Rosa’s seat, getting into a huddle behind her abdomen, and the room went silent except for Rosa’s ragged breath. Her hole was wet and bulging as if she were about to lay, but nothing was coming but a light trickle of fluid.

 

Suddenly, the pulsing of her swollen backside grew more pronounced, and her muscles began to twitch and convulse. Another woman, slimmer and fairer-skinned – her partner, I was guessing? – took all of her hands and held on as Rosa let out a long, strained grunt.

 

Laying eggs was usually no big deal. You found a nice comfortable spot when you got the feeling, and then you relaxed certain parts and gave a little push and they popped right out. Ten to twenty minutes from start to finish, tops. But this was not how Rosa’s laying was happening. Her abdomen started to contract in waves, and she bulged open a little wider each time, until I could finally see the tip of an egg beginning to slip out. Rosa continued to alternate breathing and pushing, and each time she stretched a little bit wider, the egg slipping out a little bit more. It held its position for a moment as its widest point passed through her stretched egg-hole, and for a moment I feared it had gotten stuck. But then Rosa let out an enormous sigh of relief as the melon-sized egg popped out of her, sliding a few inches across the floor.

 

There was a smattering of soft, polite applause, the sort that wouldn’t have been out of place at a golf tournament. But it wasn’t long before the show started again as Rosa took in a few deep breaths and once again started to push. It was becoming very clear to me that these eggs were taking some actual effort to lay.

 

When it was all over, Rosa had laid six of them all together, and her partner was wiping off her face with a damp cloth while the rest of the party-goers examined the eggs. Casey offered one to me, but I waved her off and let her do it. Some of the party goers looked them over with high-powered flashlights, while others held an egg close to their face and touched it with their antennae.

 

Casey was in the latter camp. She had all four of her eyes closed and was humming to herself while her antennae lightly danced across the surface of the egg. Then suddenly, her eyes snapped open and a big grin spread across her face.

 

“We got a live one!” she exclaimed, holding up the egg. “It’s viable!”

 

The whole party began to cheer. Rosa and her partner embraced, both of their eyes watering, and I watched as the viable egg was lovingly placed in an incubator. And yeah, I admit it, my heartstrings were tugged as I watched them coo over what would one day be their new baby.

 

But the party wasn’t over yet. When a bug person got fertilized, their bodies did not half-abdomen the process. She would have a few more batches to lay before the day was through, and in the meantime, there were gifts to open and little snacks to consume.

 

By the time me and Casey had gone home that evening, we’d both eaten our body weight in finger foods, and the last batch of the day had produced a second viable egg. 

 

“So how was your first candle party?” asked Casey as we drove home.

 

I felt myself blushing. “You could tell, huh?”

 

Casey chuckled and brushed my cheek. “You looked so uncomfortable holding the eggs. It was obvious you didn’t know what to do with them. And there’s no shame in that, you know. It’s always okay to admit when you don’t know something.”

 

Oh, the irony. If you only knew what I didn’t know, Casey. I don’t know how I managed to stop myself from laughing. What I said was, “Thanks. I’ll try and keep that in mind.”

 

“You do that. But don’t think I didn’t notice how you were looking at Rosa when she was lost in the sauce. You think that might be you one day?”

 

My blush got even more intense. In all of the excitement, I had forgotten that, while people still identified as men or women (or both or neither as they saw fit), the biological categories of “male” and “female” didn’t exist in my species anymore. If I ever wanted to, Casey could knock me up like that and fill me with big fat eggs, one of which might just be viable.

 

The thought was strangely appealing.

 

“...Maybe instead of dropping me off back home, we could spend the night together?”

 

Casey grinned at me. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

 

I’ll spare you the details, but we had a very lovely night together.

 

~*~

 

You ever heard the saying “the more things change, the more they stay the same”? It’s more true than you would think.

 

Right before my eyes, the world began to shift, just as slowly and surely as my body had. Brick and order began to change into resin and silk. The style of the buildings was largely unchanged, because the unseen hand that was guiding the new world didn’t want to invent architecture from first principles, I guess.

 

I stopped to watch a construction crew while driving to work one day, and I found out where the silk was coming from, despite not asking. One woman’s job appeared to be producing it from an opening on her abdomen (not the fun one) while the other workers used it as a binding agent. I’m still not sure where the resin comes from, but I decided I was happier not knowing.

 

My car runs better, too. People weren’t using fossil fuels anymore. Packrat ran on a combination of electric and some kind of biofuel now. I could drive her a whole twenty miles before she broke down now!

 

But I still had my job at the Burrito Barrel, and it was still more or less the same. Sure, we served a variety of nectar-based products, and in addition to pork and chicken and what have you, we had insect protein as an option, but it was still the same old Burrito Barrel. People came in, they got a burrito, they occasionally fucked in the restroom.

 

So yeah, same as it ever was. With everything in my life changing so radically, it was nice to have the Barrel as a fixed point.

 

But nothing stays the same forever. That was true even before the world got buggified. I got into work one day and Mickey was kind of checked out. Fortunately, I caught him before he put salt instead of sugar into a customer’s coffee.

 

“Where’s your head at today, Mick?” I asked.

 

Mickey just shrugged. Back before, I’ve known him for so long that I could tell something was bothering him. But now he was practically broadcasting it, and I had by now learned how to hone in on it as good as anyone.

 

“Kevin!” I called out, as I took off my apron and balled it up. “We’re checking out a little earlier! Leroy can lock up!”

 

“I can?” said Leroy, poking his head out of the kitchen.

 

“Twenty bucks says you can.”

 

“Oh, hey, what do you know, I can. Have fun, you crazy kids.”

And that was how me and Mickey found ourselves at the park once again. This time I provided the iced nectar. (Mine was strawberry-rhubarb flavored, Mickey got cucumber-lime. There was a lot of variety.)

 

“Talk to me, dude,” I said, before Mickey could get a word in edgewise. 

 

“Dude, I don’t want to–”

 

“Skip it. You have until I finish my nectar to get to the point before I start live-blogging your fanfic.”

 

Mickey gave me a hard look. “You wouldn’t dare.”

 

“Try me.”

 

Then he slumped back against the bench and sighed. “Fine. I miss you, dude.”

 

I scooted a bit closer to him, but didn’t say anything.

 

“I’m glad you met Casey, don’t get me wrong,” he said. “But like… I kind of miss when it was just us. The two losers. Ride or die. And now you’ve got Casey and I’ve got… Leroy, maybe, when he’s not working or completely baked.”

 

“Hey, don’t sell Leroy short. Sometimes he’s both.”

 

That wiped the somber expression off of Mickey’s face at least. “This is stupid, I know. But shit, man, I’m jealous. Not of you or Casey, but of what you have, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to have something like–”

 

And then I kissed him.

 

Mickey couldn’t have looked more dazed if I hit him over the head with a sock full of change.

 

And to be fair, I was a little bit surprised too. But you know what? I have no excuses other than it felt right at this moment. I said before that I wasn’t sure if these feelings were because of the bug stuff. Right now I was pretty sure they weren’t. The bug stuff just destroyed my inhibitions so that I could do it.

 

“You’re my best friend too, you know,” I said. “Casey’s real special to me, but so are you.”

 

Mickey laughed and wiped his eyes. “You big goober, you.” Then the two of us embraced, and let me tell you, four-armed hugs are just the best.

 

“So what happens now?” he said. “Like, what are you and I now?”

 

“Good question,” I said. I pulled my phone out of my satchel and put it on speaker.

 

“Hello?” said Casey’s voice.

 

“Hey there,” I said. “Me and Mickey are going to go get a hotel somewhere and I’m going to plow him senseless. You can go ahead to the movie without me if you want, I know you were looking forward to it.”

 

“Oh yeah, no problem.” Absolutely no hesitation. “I’ll ask Annabelle if she wants to join me. You two have fun, and next time, give me a call, ‘cause I want to watch. And Mickey?”

 

“Bwuh?” 

 

“He really likes it when you squeeze his tummy.”

 

Then she hung up.

 

“You’re crazy, my dude,” said Mickey.

 

“Little bit. Shall we, then?”

 

And we did. We found a place nearby that rented rooms by the hour, and soon the two of us were in one, intensely kissing each-other on top of a soft gel bed. 

 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” said Mickey, his eyes meeting mine. “I just didn’t want to make our friendship weird.”

 

“You know what, Mick? My life has been a nonstop cavalcade of weird, and I’m tired of fighting against it. So I’m just going to embrace the weird and have fun with it.”

 

Mickey looked puzzled for a moment, and I could tell from his pheromones that he wasn’t sure what I meant but that. But instead of explaining, I kissed him again, and that seemed to have settled the matter. 

 

“Alright, done talking now,” said Mickey, flopping down onto the bed. “I need you to fuck me now, and I mean now .”

 

With a bit of effort, I climbed on top of Mickey and lined out abdomens up so that the openings came close to meeting, and as I kissed the back of his neck, I could feel my dick starting to emerge from its protective sheath. And when I guided it into Mickey’s hole, he started to positively vibrate beneath me.

 

I’d like to have said that my first time with a guy was more momentous, but that kind of distinction was very arbitrary. We all had the same bits down there, after all.

 

My first time with my best friend, on the other hand? Now that was something special. And as I felt Mickey’s body heat against me, I was kicking myself for not doing this sooner, and sorry that it took me turning into a giant bug to do it. 

 

The next day, me and Mickey and Casey all had lunch together. The sex had been fun, but there were some things that needed hashed out. The two of them were casual acquaintances at best, and if things were going to change, that wouldn’t do.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to get to know you better, really,” said Casey. “We have so much in common, after all.”

 

“True,” said Mickey. “We both think Jon is a total hottie, for one.”

 

“I didn’t bring you both here so you could gang up on me,” I muttered, face in my hands so they wouldn’t see me blush.

 

“Then you shouldn’t have brought us both here at all,” said Casey, as she tapped her cup of iced nectar against Mickey’s. “But seriously, I wish I’d known sooner how you feel about him. I’m more than happy to share, and to learn more about you in the meantime.” She held out a hand, and Mickey took it with a smile.

 

And that was how we went from being a couple to a throuple. It took a lot less fuss than I would have thought. It turned out that  one of the more subtle changes that society had gone through was group relationships becoming more common. So much so that my parents didn’t even bother mentioning that they’d added a third to their marriage, a lovely woman by the name of Mercedes. (She’s very nice, and she cooks better than either of my parents do.)

 

In the time that had gone by, I could see that biology and society was rapidly changing. But I changed in a lot of ways too, and they were all good. And the first time I was cuddled up in bed with Casey on one side and Mickey on the other, in the new apartment that the three of us shared, that was when I had made peace with that once and for all. I was no longer going to merely tolerate the changing world; I was going to embrace it with open arms. All four of them.

 

Smirking, I gave both of my partners a tap on the shoulder.

 

“Hey, you know what would be something crazy we could do?”

 

Casey’s eyes opened blearily. “Go to the Barrel and eat all of the unclaimed burritos?” she said, giving Mickey a wry glare.

 

“Maybe a nice three-mile hike disguised as a ‘fun nature walk’?” groaned Mickey, rolling over.

 

I chuckled and pulled them closer. “Even crazier than that.”

~*~

 

It was an absolutely beautiful day. The sky was blue and full of wispy clouds, there was a light breeze, and the air was crisp and cool.

 

It was a perfect day for a wedding.

 

Nobody habitually wore clothes anymore, but I didn’t mean to imply that clothes weren’t a thing at all. People still wore them for pragmatic purposes, such as protective gear for working or thick layers for cold weather. And they wore them on special occasions, such as weddings.

 

Of course, it wasn’t quite like how it was before. You couldn’t exactly fit a dress or a tux over your big bug booty, after all. We wore something more like a fancy kimono, white with colored patterns. The one I was wearing belonged to my mom and had a leaf motif on it. Casey had one she’d made herself with floral embellishments that she’d made from her own silk. And Mickey… well, he had never owned any fancy clothes before. Back before the change, he’d lived in jeans and graphic tees. So me and Casey had gotten him one as a gift.

 

It was a lovely ceremony with all of our family and friends in attendance, and it was very emotional and also very personal, so you’ll forgive me if I gloss over the details. Long story short, it ended with the three of us bound together, and it was absolutely wonderful. I would be spending the rest of my life with my two best friends, and that was an incredible thing no matter what shape you were.

 

Now, what came next, that I’ll share with you. Gladly and enthusiastically. 

 

It was about a month after the ceremony, and we’d just gotten back from our honeymoon. The three of us were lounging together in our new bed and I was holding a flask of something pink and bubbly. I knew what needed to be done, but I was nervous about it.

 

“You’re sure, dude?” said Mickey. “It’s a real big step. We can wait if you’re not ready.”

 

“And even if you are, it doesn’t have to be you,” said Casey.

 

I looked between the two of them, and then back down at the bottle. It had a long and elaborate chemical name, but on a casual basis, folks called it “fertili-tea”. Drinking this would supercharge my egg cycle for a short period of time, meaning that there was a possibility for Casey or Mickey (or possibly even both, if what I’d read was correct) to fertilize one of my eggs. My typical egg cycle was due in about a week, which meant that this was the perfect time to try for it.

 

I caught my breath and smiled. “I’m sure I want this, and I’m sure I want it to be me. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”

 

And that was the absolute truth. So I uncapped the flask and downed it, every last drop. It was sweet and fizzy and tasted strangely like bubblegum, and as I felt it fill my stomach, I could feel it start to tingle.

 

“So how long are we supposed to wait until… y’know.” In case his meaning wasn’t clear, Mickey punctuated his sentence with some obscene gestures.

 

“Rosa said that it didn’t take very long,” said Casey. “And that we’d know. But she didn’t explain what she meant by–”

 

And then I started to gasp as, from toe to tip, my muscles started to seize up. You would think that my body rapidly changing would be something I was very well used to by now. But let me tell you, waking up to a change that’s already happened  is one thing and actually feeling it happen in real time is another. Thankfully, Rosa was right about it being fast. The anticipation would have been killer.

 

I watched as my full and thick body got even fuller and thicker. My chest and stomach rapidly filled out, growing bigger and softer. My thighs and hips grew bigger and curvier. And most impressively of all, I could feel my abdomen start to pulsate as it expanded, its muscles starting to rhythmically spasm as it ballooned outward again and again, a bit at a time.

 

When it was finally done, I was completely winded, panting for breath as Casey and Mickey held onto me. I must have been carrying an extra hundred pounds on my torso alone, and it felt like my abdomen had doubled in size.

 

“Holy shit, ” said Mickey, all eyes wide. “I knew that this stuff could be potent but I’ve never seen it in action before.”

 

“How are you feeling?” said Casey, giving my abdomen a poke, and the gesture caused a fresh muscle spasm. Among other things. Both of my partners sniffed the air, and they could tell immediately how turned on I was.

 

“So, we get you anything?” said Casey, smiling sweetly. “Snack? Glass of nectar? Back rub, maybe?”

 

“ Please.” The word came out in what I can only imagine was a needy mewl. 

 

“Please what?” said Mickey, as he plopped down beside me, and when his fingers lightly brushed against my opening, it was like I had just stuck it in an outlet. 

 

“Please!” I repeated, squirming on the bed. “Fuck me! Breed me! Fertilize me!”

 

Casey and Mickey shared a quick look. Then they pounded their upper hands together, and once Casey’s paper covered Mickey’s rock, she pounced on me, rubbing herself against me as her member began to emerge. But of course, Mickey wasn’t going to take this lying down, and as she began to work at me, he lunged forward and kissed me hard.

 

“He’s so wet, ” moaned Casey, as she began to slowly penetrate me. “I’ve never felt anything so wet. He’s practically oozing.”

 

“Don’t ride him too hard,” said Mickey, taking a moment to let me breathe. “I get a turn next.”

 

“You’d best believe that we’re both going to let you have it all night,” said Casey, and as she began to move inside of me, it was all I could do not to writhe. I wanted to feel like this all the time. I wanted to be pumped full of fat and fertile eggs all of the time.

 

After that, the night was kind of a blur. I’m very sure that both Casey and Mickey took turns railing me for the rest of the night, and the next morning, I felt heavier than I ever had before. Even though there was no way to tell before they came out, I was sure that I had a viable egg or two in there.

 

Of  course, I wouldn’t know for some time. After taking the fertili-tea, it would be three whole months before I laid again. During this time, I got bigger and bigger all over, my belly and (there was no other word for them now) my breasts getting thicker and fatter than ever. And because it was important to keep me well-fed, Casey had begun taking the hormone treatment that would let her body start producing nectar.

 

Just when I had thought this whole thing couldn’t get any better. Let me tell you, friends. Fresh nectar is great, but it’s dirty dishwater compared to nectar straight from the tap. 

 

As the weeks went by, it became harder and harder to get around, until the final month came by and I was completely immobile. I didn’t mind, especially with my two best friends catering to my every need. They fed me delicious food and we cuddled and made love every day, they walked me through the abdomen-focused equivalent of kegels, and all the while, I was getting bigger and bigger and bigger.

 

When the time started to draw near, Casey asked me if I wanted to have my own candle party. I thought about it, but decided that I’d rather not. When it was time, I wanted it to be just the three of us. And it was going to be time very, very soon.

 

Let me not mince words here. Laying eggs feels good. It wasn’t like how it used to be for humans with uteruses. (Uteri? Whatever, it's not important right now.) Sure, it could be embarrassing if it snuck up on you and you had to lay in public, and it could start to hurt if you held off for too long without letting them out, but overall, it was easy and it felt nice . The architect of our new bodies, whoever or whatever they were, didn’t want this to be something we dreaded. 

 

It’s different when you’re working on a fertile batch. Your regular cycle stops as your body produces extra eggs and grows them bigger and bigger. Your body stores extra fat in order to prepare for the energy expenditure of laying them. And oh boy do you have to expend energy, because unlike a regular cycle, you have to work to get the big’uns out. 

 

You had best believe it still feels good, though. I made sure to tell Casey and Mickey to take lots of pictures, because I wanted to remember being this way. 

 

I thought back to my body the way that it was. I was an average guy, a bit on the heavy side, a bit below average height, and nothing exceptional to look at. Textbook example of an average joe.

 

But now? Now I was beautiful . I must have weighed three or four times as much as before the change. My chitin was sleek and shiny. My eyes were bright. My ruff  was big and fluffy. My abdomen was plump and thick.  I looked good and I felt good. And the best was yet to come.

 

“How are you feeling, hot stuff?” said Mickey, as he steadily massaged my throbbing abdomen.

 

“Can’t be much longer now,” said Casey. She was busy dabbing at my sweat-soaked brow with a cool cloth. I couldn’t quite manage words at the moment, Whenever I tried, all I could do was pant and huff. But I gave them a thumbs up, and that seemed to satisfy them.

 

I shuddered all over as I felt the strongest cramp yet, starting deep in my guts and flowing out through my abdomen.

 

“I think it’s time,” said Mickey. “He’s tensing up.”

 

“You’re doing great, sweetie,” said Casey. Then she gave me a kiss on the forehead, and I tried to smile in return. Instead, I just groaned as the urge building within me became too strong to ignore.

 

I needed to push. I needed to bear down. I needed to lay . So I did. I gripped Casey’s hand and grit my teeth as I put my newly-strengthened abdomen muscles to work.

 

“It’s coming!” said Mickey, his voice cracking with excitement. “Holy shit, it’s huge!”

 

“He doesn’t need to hear that!” hissed Casey. But in fact, I loved hearing it. Before, the thing I had to look forward to most was getting a multikill in whatever online shooter had caught my attention. Now I wanted to push out the big fat eggs that had been put into me by my partners, the eggs that my body had grown and nurtured for months, the eggs I could feel opening me up, stretching me out, and I grunted and groaned and cried out until finally, with a wet pop, I could feel the first egg give way.

 

I looked back, and as Mickey had said, it was huge. He smiled as he held the wet egg up and brushed it with his antennae, then his features fell.

 

“It’s a blank,”  he said, marking it with an X and setting it aside.

 

“We knew it would be,” said Casey. “Do you know what the statistics are on someone’s first fertile egg being viable?”

 

“You never know! Maybe our boy’s special!”

 

I couldn’t help but laugh. They had no idea how special I was. Perhaps this was some mysterious entity’s final trick on me. I wasn’t just a bug, but I was the best bug! The most bug! The buggiest bug!

 

Mickey gave me a sideways glance. “You okay, dude?” 

 

I just wiped my eyes and nodded, and before he could ask me to elaborate, I felt myself start to seize up again as the next egg lined up to be laid.

 

By the time this batch was done, I had laid eight enormous eggs, which I’m told was a lot, and I was resting while Mickey and Casey carefully examined them.

 

Then Mickey suddenly let out a whoop of joy, holding one of the eggs over his head. “We got one!” 

 

“Don’t drop them!” said Casey, taking the egg from him. “Do you want the baby to be born with a dented head?”

 

I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. There was nothing like this. But before I could celebrate, there was more work to do, as my body was quick to remind me. And indeed, I could feel my guts starting to tremble once again. “Uh, guys…?”

 

Both of them looked ‘round at me, and Casey’s eyes went wide. “Seriously? Already?” 

 

Mickey’s smile got even wider. “Holy shitting hell, dude.”

 

When all was said and done, I let out two batches that had given us a total of three viable eggs. Mickey and Casey were over the moon, and so was I. It felt like I had crossed some kind of rubicon. Somewhere deep inside of me, there was a tiny spark of my old self, a part of me that was still hoping beyond hope that this was all a dream, a hallucination, some sort of elaborate simulation, anything.

 

But as I watched my three beautiful eggs get loaded into our incubator, that spark was well and truly extinguished. This was me, and this would always be me, and you’d better believe that I’d never have it any other way.

 

And this is where I’m leaving you, hypothetical reader. You know my story. You know how I got there. Maybe you believe me. You probably don’t. But that  doesn’t matter. As of this moment, it’s been two weeks since I’ve had my viable eggs, and in a few months, they’ll hatch and our family will grow. And when that happens, I don’t want there to be any part of my old self left. So it’s all going into this notebook, and then it’s going to get shoved into the bottom of a box and forgotten about, so that these thoughts will trouble me no more. Hey, I feel better already. It’s working.

 

I don’t know how to end this, so I’m just going to say, have a nice life, treasure each moment, and remember that change is good.

 

It’s cliched, I know. But it’s true. 

 

=====================================================

 

“Come on, you little scamps! Breakfast is ready! Eat up!”

 

Beatriz, Hugo, and Jenny lurched their way down the stairs and toward the kitchen table. Like most kids their age, they did a lot of lurching. Jon didn’t blame them, of course. Fifteen was an awkward age for everyone.

 

Fortunately, he was always prepared for it.

 

“Eat up, y’all,” he said, as he put down a plate of nectar-infused waffles in front of each of his children. “You need the calories.”

 

“My chitin is itchy,” grumbled Beatriz.

 

“I feel bloated,” groaned Jenny.

 

“My head is full of slime,” groused Hugo. 

 

But each of them accepted the waffles.

 

“We know,” said Mickey, as he poured each of them a glass of nutrient-rich smoothie. “Getting ready to pod sucks.”

 

“I wish it would just happen already,” said Jenny, as she began to eat. “I want to get it over with.”

 

“Not much longer now,” said Jon. “Doctor Rodrigues said your bodies are just about ready. It’s just a matter of waiting for the right moment. Shouldn’t be more than a few weeks.”

 

Beatriz smirked as she speared a waffle. “If I pod last, I’m gonna graffiti your cocoons.”

 

“You absolutely will not,” said Mickey. “Now finish up, you unfortunately still have to go to school.”

 

All three of the kids let out a heavy sigh. Jon chuckled to himself as he began to clean up.

 

“You sure you’re cool to take them to school yourself today?” he said, as Mickey got ready to go.

 

“Yeah, dude, it’s fine,” said Mickey, waving his left hands dismissively. “I know you wanted to help Case today. S’gotta get done sooner rather than later.”

 

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

They laughed, they kissed, the kids said “eww”, and then Mickey and the kids were off and Jon let himself relax. Once they had pulled out of the driveway, he let himself indulge in some lurching himself as he dragged himself over to the sofa. It was hard to believe that they’d all be podding soon, and then he wouldn’t see or hear them for a whole year. But it was something every parent went through, so he wouldn’t be alone.

 

“You got the pre-pod blues too, huh?”

 

He spun his head around as Casey approached, and they too shared a kiss.

 

“You know me too well. You just missed Mickey, by the way.”

 

“I know. It’s fine. I was hoping we could talk. Just the two of us.”

 

Jon patted the seat beside him, and Casey plopped down next to him, taking his upper-left hand.

 

“Everything okay, cielo ? Problems with the Great Clean-Out?”

 

“You don’t have to make a bit of decluttering sound so dramatic, you dork. But as it happens, I found something interesting.”

 

“Oh? Did my vintage Radical Princess Miki-Niki box set finally turn up? I swear it’s up there some… where?”

 

Jon trailed off as he saw what his partner was holding in her lower hands. It was a well-worn journal with a faux leather cover, black and unadorned. It took him a moment to recognize it, but when he did, he felt his blood freeze.

 

“I was emptying some stuff out of the attic when I found a shoe box in your dad’s old steamer trunk,” said Casey, drumming her fingers on the cover. “Inside of it was a bundle of old band t-shirts, and wrapped in those t-shirts was this.”

 

Jon swallowed heavily, wondering if she had already called someone. Was this going to be an intervention? “Um, would you believe that  it’s a scifi novel I’m working on?”

Casey shook her head. “Not for a second.”

 

“I didn’t think so. Well, look, before you bring in the psychiatrist, let me try and explain–”

 

Then she gave him a silencing kiss.

 

“Jon?”

 

“Mmm?” 

 

“I remember too.”

 

He stared at her in silence, his brain not allowing him to process the words that she said. It seemed like she realized that, because she then added, “I remember what it was like before.”

 

“...Just so we’re on the same page, you mean–”

 

“Before everyone was a bug. I remember it, too.”

 

Jon’s heart began to race again, but for different reasons than before. He felt a sense of relief, for sure, but also a number of other emotions he couldn’t quite describe. Casey smiled and rested her head against his chest, and he pulled her into a four-armed hug.

 

“We don’t have anywhere to be for a while. The kids won’t be home until this afternoon. I think I’ve got a story to tell you. If you want to hear it, I mean.”

 

And Jon laughed. He had a whole slew of new questions now.

 

“Casey, there is nothing in the world that I want more.”

 

“Well, it all started on the day I woke up with antennae…”