I am a Queen. I have given birth to four hundred and thirty-two children. There are only a few of us. Dreya has given birth to eight hundred and sixty-eight.
Ten years ago, a virus spread. It was airborne. It was activated by estrogen levels. Nearly all women infected became sterile. Others, like myself, had the opposite effect. We became highly fertile and the gestation time decreased to two months.
Before the virus, I was a mouse. I was quiet. I was barely noticed. Mousy hair. Mousy teeth. Mousy eyes. Small. I was on a dating site. I sent out winks. No man winked back. I was getting desperate so I placed a photo of my cousin on my profile. Heart shaped face. Plump lips. An accountant took the bait. Coffee at Starbucks. He left before he finished his latte. Oh, I forgot I have a meeting. I put my photo back on the profile and started sending out winks again. Then the virus spread.
Now men are desperate for me. I can give them a child. Continue the genetic flowering of their name and likeness. I have a website. Men send winks with the picture of a stork. I sort through their photos. I’m very choosy. When they meet me they bring gifts. If they are handsome and charming I have their baby. For two months they adore me. I give them the child. I move on. I’m still a mouse. But now they see a desirable trait. Now, I am a queen.
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