Human beings once shared the Earth’s language, having no words of their own.

They’d eventually adopt the new lexicon that appeared one day on the forest floor. Words popped up like mushrooms. 

Red, white, alluring. Probably poisonous. 

Most of the other woodland creatures had the sagacity to avoid them.

Not humans, though. The naked wingless naïfs gobbled up each tumescent word, absorbing the mysteries within.

When they opened their mouths, they released the words into the air. They spread like spores.