The Corpse Flower

Sleep Is For Sheep

The Corpse Flower

By Thomas Zimmerman

Read by Patrice C. Smith

Amorphophallus titanum—a.k.a. the Corpse Flower. A towering eight-foot Araceae, infamous for the sickly-sweet stench of decay it releases when in bloom. They are popular attractions at botanical gardens but only grow naturally in the tropical rainforests of Indonesia. Until now.

When a corpse flower inexplicably emerges on a grass island in the parking lot of a strip mall in Greenfield, Wisconsin, the EPA dispatches botanist Marjorie Gallant to investigate. She expects a media circus but finds only a small band of teenage burnouts drawn to the flower like moths to a flame. The EPA warns her: the flower’s sulfides are more than just foul—they can twist the minds of creatures that breathe them in, driving them to madness. Then, they leave her to face it alone.

Under the flower’s rotting perfume, the night spirals into something dark and wild. Marjorie and the kids slip into a haze of booze, drugs, and the hypnotic rasp of grasshoppers as reality warps and the shadows creep ever closer. Something ancient is blooming, and it won’t be contained.