The Glass Frog Syndrome

A global pandemic becomes the ultimate equalizer

Alex Porter
Microcosm
3 min readNov 30, 2022

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Image of a human being’s muscles and cartilage under the skin.
Photo by Arthur Lambillotte on Unsplash

By the time the World Health Organization completed its deliberations, the affliction had already spread to every corner of the globe. The mystery to the doctors and public health officials was that the disease, for lack of a better term, did not cause any physiological harm. If anything, it produced anxiety which generally confused everyone. In the end, they declared it a pandemic, but this was essentially meaningless.

When they said it was reminiscent of COVID-19, many tried mask-wearing and social distancing. But this virus behaved differently and at a rate never before seen on the planet.

The social influencers beat the medical professionals to provide a name that stuck among the general population. They called it the “Glass Frog Syndrome.” Everyone could relate to that. The syndrome essentially changed the pigment of human skin to crystal clear right down to the hypodermis, which allowed everyone to see inside each other, much like the glass frog.

After the initial suicides and conspiracy theories died down, humans started to reevaluate their own identities. The racist bigots were at a loss in their search for victims. Having no one specific to direct their hate toward, they settled on hating everyone.

Biracial couples felt a dramatic change in their power dynamics since their marginalized identities no longer suffered from immediate prejudice. Although people’s accents, clothing, or hairstyles often alluded to their race, many learned quickly to disguise themselves when necessary to avoid lingering discrimination.

The human face became a distorted, grotesque swarm of muscles, veins, and cartilage. Even the most attractive models were suddenly hideous. Some applied a light base of makeup to provide structure to their face and conceal their innards, but the result was a gruesome facade from a horror movie. Most spent their days weeping in isolated corners while staring at magazine covers. Everyone was now equal in their ghastly expressions.

Despite the macabre human condition, intimacy rose in popularity and frequency. Instead of watching TV at night, couples locked themselves in pitch-dark rooms and explored each other’s bodies in a somewhat successful attempt to embrace the past. Reality reared its ugly head once the sunlight flooded the bedroom in the morning.

Every baby in the world was born with Glass Frog Syndrome, or hypodermal transparency, as the doctors called it. Mothers screamed as these slippery demons were extracted from their bodies. Gone were the days of parents giggling at their newborn’s resemblance to family members. Sleeping babies at their mother’s breast looked more like tiny zombies whose eyelids were never fully shut. No one hung a picture of a newborn on their refrigerator anymore.

Old friends and acquaintances were repeatedly heard calling, “I didn’t recognize you!”

But humans are marvelous beings and eventually adapted to their new condition. “Generation Frog” grew up knowing nothing else but transparent skin. They recoiled in shock when older family members showed photographs from the past. The colored veneer that had covered the elderly made no sense to them. They looked like freaks with no way of appreciating muscle tone and fitness.

Most agreed that humankind was much better off the way they were now.

Alex Porter articulates random thoughts, finishes incomplete dreams, and scrapes the mental barrel of lived experience as writing fuel.

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Alex Porter
Microcosm

I continually search for meaning in the mundane, pathways in coincidence, mindfulness in nature, and humor embedded in tragedy.