The parasite has been sitting in glassy stasis for a few million years now. It is a gangly, disgusting creature, rendered in the pallid glow of a piece of amber. The faint buzz of an ancient jungle lingers still in its static wings.
I turn my attention to the other exhibits. A parade of remnants, each given its chance to leap and roar as it once did on lost fields. The gallery of ghosts continues on and on through musty air, passing one horrible epoch after another.
I stop by a monster, a mouth set for cleaving skulls and crunching ribs. Those grand, vacant sockets seem to be watching me. An irrational fear, thankfully. The old beast roams only in shadows and primal memories.
Regardless, I give it one last look before moving on- Just to be sure.
by Paul Inglis