The Tylosaurus skeleton spirals to the ceiling, a corkscrew of ribs & vertebrae & teeth. AC weaves through its bones while a heat wave quilts Kansas. Squares of sunlight smother the college campus, but the fossilized apex predator’s shadow protects me. The mosasaur’s terrestrial ancestors returned to the Western Interior Seaway, & I wish I could follow their flippers. The risky reinvention of their DNA inspires me. In a million years, my offspring could dominate what’s left of the world with unhinged jaws perfect for swallowing. I won’t wallow in the land-locked misery, but I wonder if my sun scorched bones will hang as a mobile above cribs, a warning to future generations. The asteroid that ended the dinosaurs was a mercy; global climate change is a slow, sticky march towards extinction. Meteorologists forecast heat indexes of 125° once a year in the KC metro. Although Tylosaurus is Kansas’ official marine fossil, I prophesize we won’t acclimate to the smog or power outages. No one will award 600 bottles of wine for my skeleton because the long-necked bottles will be buried beside me in landfill graves. The mosasaurs were satiated with giant sea turtles & sharks, but humanity’s hunger & heat indexes will unravel the double helix of our DNA.
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Adrianna Gordey (she/her) is a writer based in Kansas. When she isn’t writing, Adrianna can be found daydreaming about the Atlantic ocean and assembling overly ambitious Halloween costumes. Her work has appeared in Passengers Journal, Hunger Mountain Review, and elsewhere. Follow her on Instagram @by_adrianna_gordey.
