The Parasite

The Human Peter rode The Human’s amygdala like a flea on the back of giant whale. His excitement at first almost bordered on sheer lunacy. He grunted and snorted like some feral beast as The Human started to come under the effects of his delirious and misguided judgment.

Were it any other Gondii, they would laid dormant and slept at the wheel instead of piloting such an immense vehicle as this.

Were it any other Gondii, there would be no story to tell. But this wasn’t a Todd or Tom or Tobias – this was Peter Gondii.

“Shouldn’t be long now,” said Peter, convincing himself more than anything.

But there was no textbook for humans. There was no failsafe or second plan. Humans were just an encumbrance; nothing had ever been written about them for no-one had ever made it out alive.

And at first it seemed that, against all odds, The Human was in fact becoming swayed by bouts of irrationality. It wasn’t anything bold or startling, but there was a tiny shift in indecision and compulsiveness that hadn’t been before. Were this a rat, already that beautiful and agile vehicle would be nose to the ground, enamoured by the scent of a feline’s ammoniac piss. This whole endeavour would be done in a matter of days – give or take a day or a couple of weeks.

But The Human was neither sleek nor agile. Worse still was that this human in particular, had vices which saw its waking desires and impulses as some kind of a moral or spiritual test – a consequence and side effect of its cognition.

“Dear Jesus,” said The Human. “Today I had an impure thought. I know you know what it was so I don’t have to say it out loud, but I’m really sorry if I caused you any offense. I didn’t mean it, and I think the devil must have slipped it in there, but I promise I’ll never have an impure thought again. P.S, thanks for the super awesome feedback on my abstract. Love you, Jesus. Bye.” 16