Friday, August 03, 2007


Marla was a girl, but she was also a seed. She had limbs, hair that tossled and flowed, and all the anatomy that boys found so tantalizing. Yet she was also a seed, body enclosed in a bulbous capsule, room only to stand and to sit and to walk in a circle. It was snug. She had a peephole to look through, to watch for the rain or the germinating dew. Thin strands grew from her, thicker than hair, but slight - they pushed their way through the skin of the capsule, bursting it in places - they shot outwards where the sun was known to while. Their one thought was to hurdle into the sky and wrap their tentacles around the warmth of that illuminative body. But their attention was diverted by the boy lying in the meadow, watching the spot in the earth where the plant suddenly appeared. He emanated warmth, as well. The stem advanced, leaves unfolding, and bud appearing at the end of the stilt-like extension which grew at a visible pace. The bud swelled and burst with petals, and in the center of those petals was an eye that sought the depths of his brain.

Story #408

36 comments:

Cheesemeister said...

Kimora the tree-hugger had warned Fiona against her aggressive attitude towards plants. Fiona had enjoyed kicking the buds of black-eyed Susans, lopping the leaves off lilacs, stomping on lamb's feet, and ripping roses out by the roots. Kimora had said that one day the garden gnomes would get revenge on feisty Fiona. Fiona had just laughed. The flora-phile had obviously snorted too much pollen.
But now Fiona wished she'd listened. When she came into the garden this morning to mutilate some maples, she got the surprise of her life when she was met by Rolf the head garden gnome, who informed her that it was time to pay the phyto-piper. Then the garden gnomes began to chant.
The next thing she knew, Fiona was imprisoned inside a blade of grass. And now she saw the lawn mower coming.

Joey Fanelli said...

As a child raised by a single mother, it was all too common for my mother to, after she got off work and picked me up from day care, sit me down in front of the television in an attempt to occupy me as she prepared the evening meal. Being restless as I was, few shows could hold my attention for longer than a few minute's time, but there was one which embraced my imagination and smothered it with love and joy: Deaky the Dinosaur. Deaky was a jolly fellow in smooth, green skin: tall and bold, as a dinosaur should be, yet loving and gentle, who's kind words of joy and inspiration could sooth even the darkest of tempest. I would often dream of being such a creature: kind and loving as he, gentle and soothing, beloved as much as I did he.

I do believe, in some strange turn of events, my youthful wish has come true: now, as an adult, I do wear this green, Deaky the Dinosaur suit in stride, as I wander the grounds of this amusement park.







The language I used was a bit more flowery than I would of liked, but I'm watching Baz Luhrmann's "Romeo + Juliet" so it sort of rubbed off on me whilse I was writing this.

DW2 said...

"Oi! This is my tree! Get out!" Unfortunately, Wilona didn't speak squirrel fluently. She didn't even have time to duck before the fuzzy ball of fury launched itself out of the plastic tree and latched on to her hair.

Sandy said...

I have found window to the world where i could peek in to the reality.
There i see poverty,
there i see hunger,
there i see hungry children
without clothes snatching half
eaten burger left by the rich to the dog.
there i see people fighting
in the name of religion
in the name of place
in the name of caste
in the name of superiority
in the name of colour
forgeting that in everyone
there resides the same blood
which is red; never minding
that.

observer said...

Only when we accept we are part of the world, instead of rulers of it, will we really see.

Take a peek.

talespin said...

They would think twice about their endless slaughter of us, for countless ages, if they would simply think about what we have seen. Years passing, winter sleep and summer sun, ever steady, coming and going. Peacefully watching the clouds, listening to the birds, feeding the squirrels, while they live and die and make war and peace and build and destroy. Let them. It has nothing to do with us. We whisper in the breeze, tell them what we know, but they do not listen. We fear nothing but their axes.

San said...

You have taken over me... slowly, inexorably... slimy, green, sick and thick... symbiotic and consuming, you've robbed me of my soul, my sanity, my life. Now I'm trapped. There's no escape. I've been swallowed whole.
I'm lost...
I'm gone...
I'm sorry I allowed you to do this...
I'm...

AmyO said...

Patty's dispair grew with each day of her imprisonment in the giant pea pod. If only she could take back the day she and her sister fell for those handsome yet dangerously jealous brothers, Pauly Pauly Peapod shooter and Peter Peter Pumpkin eater...

Joey Fanelli said...

May I post a second?:

"Which is more important: a long life, or a fulfilled one?" For someone as painstakinly obsessive as her, so much so to find a costume to match her eyes, she could steal your tongue and chew it up at a moment's notice. "Since when do people in broccoli costumes make philosophical inquiries such as this?" I stood smug, sure that I had made a fool of her.

"Since the dawn of mankind," she replied. Two tongues lost in one day.

April's Place said...

She always hated going to the eye doctor for her yearly eye exam....but wow this time things were different. She was going to a new doc in town. This doc had the latest equipment, and it was fashionable!

Frances bo bancess said...

it was just a normal day, and that's what she could not fathom about it. her normal morning routine was uninterrupted, her walk to school was bathed in a comforting, winter sun and the school day didn't flash by but somehow refused to drag. the final bell rang and she sat silently in her seat for a minute as the rest of the class stampeded out, for the best seats of the bus, or the opportunity to get to their locker before the walls were plastered with other bodies, or for what ever purpose they though rushing would fulfill. she couldn't get a grip onto the blandness of the day, maybe it wasn't the day at all, maybe it was that she was somehow detached from reality only left to watch it merrily float by. she shook her head as she finally stood up and walked out into the noisy hallway. the noise slowly peeled itself off her ears as she wandered out of the school gates homeward. she passed the playground she always did, but instead of continuing home she stopped and stared at it a little while, it seemed to call her over, and so she did. she pushed the swings half-heartedly, and dragged her feet slightly in the tanbark as she walked over to the climbing tower.
"does this life hold anything for me? do i have a future here" she whispered as she put her eye to a plastic framed hole, and a whole world filtered through her pupils and illuminated a new passion inside her mind.

"you are more than who you think you are, you will never find what you never look for."

who would have thought that graffiti could make such an impact on a lost soul...

DeLi said...

one last look,
or was it a peep?
oh dear heart,
i truly weep...
but were only meant yesterday

Doug said...

Gute Reise, Indie!

kevin wecker said...

How much longer must I hold this letter D? It's heavy! And I am still not sure how MEANDER will help the Jets play better!

Lorena's Blogbilingüe said...

Frances Bo Bancess, I love your story, it's very spiritual.

Lorena

Mavin said...

I have a quick question, how often do you have time to go to all your links you have on your sidebar? There's so many I can't even go to all of them, good grief, lol :P. But that's good, it let's me find other blogs on the internet, I been to a good amount of them though but not even half yet, lol.


Take care. :)

Irene Grumman said...

She was a new kind of pod person, not an invader or a replacement, but an adaptation to Earth. She was innocent. The world looked strange and beautiful to her.

Irene Grumman said...

Your recommendations of blogs show so much thought and appreciation, these latest ones and others you've described.

Catnapping said...

green armpits
exposed when he reaches
for his nanuu

Colored clouds said...

thanks for the comments on the photos :) i'm glad you like them! As always your stories are amazing! hope to read this one soon.

The OE said...

Once again Jan dropped something in her art-deco commode

cooper said...

THE OE: that was good. Thinking fast on your feet here.

Happy LOL Day said...

Always jealous of James and his Giant Peach she decided to take off in a Giant Apple.. just to see what would happen and how far she could get before... she woke up under her new green blanket. (Have fun on your adventures Indie! :))

chook said...

Every teardrop took a part of her
Until she was as empty
As the missing windows of
An abandoned house
Leaking lives onto the pavement

weirsdo said...

I looked at the photo and read about your vacation, and mainly what comes to mind is how green with envy I am.

M.P. said...

That green wall matched her eye colour. He had been there for quite a while now thinking of what to do with that pic.
Who could that eye belong to?
He had picked up that torn photo from the ground struck by the coincidence that made his brain itch.
Who could be that one peeping through that hole?
He turned the pic and saw a name... Cinderela...
How very weird... Now he would have to find a wall hole and an eye that would match it.
He realised he had beeen challenged to an extreme task: rewrite Cinderella's story.

William Shakespeare said...

Caliban: . . . and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest o' th' island.
. . . I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.

THE TEMPEST I.ii. 342-44, 350-51

April said...

Good one, Cheesemeister.

Mavin said...

Hey Indie, how's your trip?

Steve Will said...

I got nuthin'!

Looks like a cute face hiding behind an inflatable Froot Loop.

Something should come to mind, but it won't!

Wait. Do I feel a chill in the air? Is there something sinister approaching? Yes! Yes! There it is!

Aaaaaaaiiiiieeeee! Writer's Block!

Must run and hide and hope it passes quickly. These things smell fear.

The Mushroom said...

Try as they might, the paint department at Home Warehouse could not exactly match Gina's eye color. This was mostly because they couldn't get her head into the scanner effectively.

Uday said...

There is a road from the eye to heart that does not go through the intellect.

Cheesemeister said...

Thank you, April!

mistery said...

A Certain Doorway

There is a certain Doorway through which some have crossed over to other places, other dimensions, from which few if any ever return.
Some say the Doorway is a Painting, a Magic Painting. Others say it is a device---a stargate, a portal, a magic casement---created by unknown and unknowable beings from the singularity at the very heart of the Cosmos.

Mathematicians believe it is a flaw in the geometry of spacetime. More sensible people perceive it as a real, live, tangible door made of matter (such as wood, stone, plastic, metal or ivory or any substance for that matter in any known or unknown universe, including the strange substance of which the Philosopher’s Stone is made).

The Door, or Doorway if you prefer, makes itself known at the crucial turning or tipping points of a person’s life. The Doorway appears in dreams and visions. It materialises miraculously at moments of peace and stillness, especially when the multitude of clasping clutching things required to sustain the illusion of self retreat snarling with frustration into the lower circles of hell.

It also materialises miraculously at moments of great tumult and turmoil and misery in a person's life, offering an escape to those who are able to recognise the possibility.

But to see the Doorway is one thing. To walk through it is another. It takes a brave heart indeed to enter those domains that lie beyond.

© Copyright S R Schwarz 2007. All rights reserved.

very short stories

wicked and sick
pathetic poetry

Indeterminacy said...

This is the longest it's ever taken me to write a story I intended to write - four months. Well, finally my story is posted and I can go through and read all of yours.

Cheesemeister: Ack! Your story is devious and audacious and I love it. Also I'm flabberagasted by the parellel aspects of what we both wrote. I swear I hadn't seen your story yet!

Joey: What a gem you wrote! You really got me with the end. There's a grand kind of poetry to that. I'm going to watch my tongue after the second story.

DW2: Ouch! That would hurt - at least it wasn't a bat.

Sandy: What an easy message, and so hard for many to understand. I was toying a long time with a window idea myself, but a window into the universe, only I didn't write that story after all.

Observer: Your story reminds tells me that we should have a proper perspective as opposed to unbridled egoism. Nice sentiment.

Talespin: The perspective convinces me. Who could be wiser than the trees, who have seen so much.

San: Ohmigod! Seduced by a flesh eating plant! (I'm guessing) Makes me shudder.

AmyO: Where's the Jolly Green Giant when you need him? ;-) This would be a great cartoon animation.

April's Place: I know the feeling - I switched eye doctors once and the new guy had all these cool eye test machines!

Frances: Your story has such depth, and a wise message. Your stories always stun me Frances.

DeLi: the essence of a last look. I always hated goodbyes, because of the last look.

Doug: Thanks, it's so long ago now, I can't remember where I was going.

Kevin: Wickedly witty, or wittily wicked. I think the three sentence short story should be made a genre.

Mavin: With so many links, I hardly have no time to visit them all. Even getting them into google's reader has provedn a monumental task. Also I realize it is absolutely necessary to go through and check these links. I remove the broken links when I find them, but I'll leave inactive blogs linked, because content is often timeless.

Irene: You're the first one to describe the way she is looking. I too thought there was wonder in her eye.

Catnapping: Cool that you stopped by. Your haikus are the cat's meow!

Colored Clouds: Your welcome - I'll have to let you klnow I posted my story.

The OE: I can't deny it - that line made me laugh. And I needed that.

Happly LOL Day: I enjoyed that snatch of a dream. And it makes me want to eat some fruit now. I think we have oranges in the house.

Chook:a window leaking lives - what a phrase that is! Wow!

Weirsdo: Christmas and New Year's is coming up, so I'm sure you'll haev at least a few days off,

M.P.: What an amazing take you had on that photo. And what if the evil stepdaughters get themselves glass eyes! All could be lost!

Mr: Shakespeare: Thanks for stopping by! You've written some great plays!

Steve Will: Looks like I had the granddaddy of writer's block. So no need to apologize.

Mushroom: You're crazy and I love it! So true, this story. We have trouble buying paint when we repaint the apartment.

Uday: That's a wisdom to remember. Thank you for sharing it here.

Mistery: Your story was a fine conclusion of the entire round. Philosophical and food for thought. I was thinking in a vaguely similar direction at first, but wound up writing something completely different.

Hobbes said...

We like the sinister tone at the end, Indie.