Delicious Monster

From the moment I heard about the philodendron plant whose Latin name means "delicious monster," I wanted to write a story with it. "Delicious Monster" was published in the anthology Queer Fear II, edited by Michael Rowe.

A trilling noise came from over by the dining table. Jerry turned to see what it was. He was up and standing beside the cage before he knew it. He reached to touch the wire bars. "Yikes. Dad, what the hell is that thing?"

The bird--Jerry figured that's what it was--tilted its head at the sound of his voice. It sidled on its perch, closer to Jerry, one eye beady on him. Jerry pulled his hand back from the cage. The thing was tiny, bald and fucking hideous. No feathers on its head, none on its wings. Looked like something out of the grocery's freezer. Probably no feathers on its body, either. Hard to tell, in the weird little suit it had on it. "And what's that it's wearing?"

Sudharshan laughed. He came over and stroked one of the cage's wires with a beatifully manicured hand. "You like his jumpsuit?" he asked Jerry. Sudharshan's face always made Jerry think of chocolate brownies, dark and sweet. "I crochet them for him. He'd freeze to death otherwise, wouldn't you, my numbikins?" Sudharshan cooed at the disgusting little thing. It screeched back at him, tossing and tossing its beak up into the air.

"Why doesn't it have any feathers?"

"Birdie alopecia," his dad said.