"Am I Worthy?" by Bethany Jarmul
Am I Worthy?
My lungs labor with the heavy, humid air. Here, in the wetlands, the carnivorous plant waits for me. Its cherry-red mouth gaping open, stained from the blood of those it’s already digested. Its teeth-like leaves controlled by trigger hairs, so discerning that it knows falling raindrops won’t deliver the protein-rich meat it craves.
Drawn by its watermelon-colored lips, I climb into its mouth, tickling its triggers with my toes. The trap snaps shut in one-tenth of a second, the time it takes to blink. I’m trapped—too large to slip between its stiff protrusions. The plant will create an airtight chamber, a stomach in which to digest its lunch only if what it has captured is a live specimen, worthy of consumption. So I wait.
Photo Credit: Staff