Overpopulation: I. Antarctica

John Michael
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The planet was overpopulated and no one was willing to leave, so we came up with a plan to make more space. We pulled Antarctica up by the roots and plopped it in the middle of the Pacific. The garbage patch provided the perfect buoyancy so the continent would never sink, and the penguins didn’t seem to mind the new weather. The water was warmer, no sea lions in sight. Instead of being separated eleven months of the year, families could spend every day together on the beach before turning in to their villages under the neophytic forests. At night—which was now every night—they no longer had the aurora, but the selection of fish revealed a greater spectrum of flavor and color than they had ever imagined.

When we arrived in Antarctica the Penguins phalanxed the shore. An envoy jumped up onto the deck of our ship and told us to turn around. “We like it here,” they said. “Find your own damn continent.” We made this place we responded, so they proposed a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. We threw rock, oblivious to the secret in plain sight—that penguins can only throw paper.

This story appeared in Issue 9.2. Pick up your copy today.

 

John Michael doesn't have a Boston accent. He is a New England separatist, a Red Sox diviner, and a writer of prose. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Huffington Post, The Finger, Really Short Stories, and others. You can read more at johnmichaeltxt.com.