‘So you could grow lots of pumpkins from each of these seeds?’ Carl felt the smooth oval shells, the stringy flesh wrapping round his forefinger and thumb as he dug his hand further into the goo.
‘That’s right,’ said Mum, knife shining in her hand. ‘Dozens, maybe.’
Was that what happened to humans, then? One seed, dozens of babies? Carl looked down to his mum’s swollen belly, hard as a pumped up basketball, straining under her pinny … and began to cry.