The Curmudgeons

The Curmudgeons

On a planet, just bigger than our own, lived creatures like some of us and not like others of us. Their evolution had given them the ability to pass the experiences and memories of their ancestors to their offspring, who were born only smaller than their crusty, grey haired, parents. The parents had little to do with the children; there was nothing to teach them. The children, as jaded and bitter as their parents, held the memories of a thousand dead end jobs, myriad rejections from members of the opposite sex, and countless disputes with the phone company. Their lives were examined many times over, but worth living? Only they knew for sure.

They spoke only to convey their most basic needs. There was no need for frivolities, when grunt would suffice and a spade was a spade. Art, literature, music, had all been done. Their gods had been evicted from their heavens.

Their cities lay mostly abandoned and heavy industry was a distant memory, due solely to lack of interest. Warehouse districts, taken by vines and wildlife, stood in decay. Office towers, which barely stood, housed flying creatures and rodents.

Their numbers dwindled proportionally to their reproductive rate. It was too much effort for too little reward. But somewhere in a forgotten corner of their world, a mentally deficient child was born. Some called the child a savior some called the child a dunce. It turned out the ones who thought he was a dunce were right.

The End