Today’s Word: Sullen


The sulky seventeen year old lounged back in her oversized, plush-cushioned chair, letting her socked feet dangle over the carpet.

"But why do we have to die, Dad? I mean, our cells renew themselves for years and years, why can't they go on like that forever?"

Her father regarded the girl, catching her with an instant smile that made her grin despite her sullen mood.

"I suppose our cells could go on forever. They have it in them, if you will. But that's not how mother nature works. Like all things, not just living things, but all substances in the universe, we must evolve. We must move on, and the only way to do that --"

"-- is to die." The girl made a rude noise with her soft mouth.

Her father just smiled all the broader. "Yes," he said. "Yes, dear, that's exactly right. Evolution isn't about great strides in development like some engine being redesigned on a drafting table."

"So life is really just about bearing the next generation. A generation that will be better then you. . . that will be the death of you, really."

Her father nodded. "That's the hope of every parent, sweetie."

"I can't understand that. I never will."

Her father only grinned in that infuriating way of his. He was so last generation.