this is a story of a garden, two potted plants and a gardener. the garden belonged to the garden. she cultivated the plants, drizzled water into their roots, and spent time with them. in a small corner of the garden far away from the other plants, there were two(more) plants who looked like old friends. these plants told teenage boy fart and sex and poop jokes all day long. the other plants ignored it, chalked their behavior up to a lack of sunlight, or an excess of sunlight.
one day, the taller plant said, "i want to share a pot with you."
the short plant said, "that's an interesting idea. but look, our roots are deep here. i don't know if your pot is going to be good for my roots. how can i know?"
the plants looked down for a good long while, examining the delicate white roots sticking out of the bottoms of their pots, feathering out.
"there's always a risk."
"of course there's a risk, but look at us. no one wants to be around us."
"it's because we are gassy."
"we? i'm not gassy, i just like to make the noises so we can scare the petunias."
the plants turned their pots away from each other, to capitalize on the sun, or to give themselves time to think, or to avoid looking at each other's leaves, and being drawn to consider the proposition, the proposition which while seemingly fun (an endless sleepover) could mean that one plant would shrivel while the other became big big bigger than all of the other plants.
was this the tall plant's idea? garden domination under the guise of feelings?
one day as the seasons were turning and the air cooling, the gardener saw what was there and moved the plants. (less)
The tepid, brackish water ran over his hands, leeching warmth from them. His eyes traced slowly up from them, finding the sheen of the mirror. Who was that man, standing in the metal reflection. Who was he, with his hollow eyes and searching expression. What did he want? Did(more) he have a family once, a life aside from the constant search? The man in the metal reached forward and stream of brown water dried, so he turned and stepped over the puddles back out past the broken door.
He ran his hand over his face as he scanned the room, looking to see if any of the sleepers were still holding. That was the best part of waking up early, crouching over the murmuring sleepers and checking their sweating palms to see if they had another hit clutched with white knuckles. He was lucky. He found cap. He popped it. He sank back down to the floor, beside the hunched form he had taken it from.
With a strange smile, a sort of performance expression we expect to see on waiters and corpses, he began to drift back. His eyelids fluttered, time yawned sleepily, and for a perfect moment he was floating between now and then, between here and her. It's a comforting thought to know she is never out of reach. That with one more pill, he can walk back through the halls of his mind to find her waiting. It's a slow death, though... trading the future for your past. A slow death, these caps, but so is life.(less)
After I found out that I was able to travel to another dimension, I decided to pack up my bags and leave my town. I would travel light and ride myself of all my possessions. I will leave some money for my landlord and an apology letter. The life(more) as I know it has changed and I must adhere to those changes by shedding all materials that will weight me down. This included my apartment, clothes, my pet ants, and my collection of computer fans.
My departure was tearful, as I dumped my ants on a dead dog on the side of the road. The stench was unbearable and I was happy to be rid of the ants. They were great pets, they ate everything you gave them, but they were extremely vicious when it came to acquiring food. Sometimes they would spill onto the floor and start an assault train on every crumb in the house, even though I had placed several rotting apples right in front of them.
The ants would terrorize and demolish everything in their path. If by any chance I was in their way, or became a target they would try to devour me as well. Good thing I was million times bigger or I would be ant food.
One more thing that made ants appeasing was that they kept the house free of bugs besides their own clan. It was a price to pay for a clean house. Now I just wish that they would drive me to the bus depot.