Saturday, 23 August 2014
Back to the fuchsia
My, but how it has grown.
How strong and healthy it has become.
This was the first time she had been to this corner of the garden since... that evening.
This corner was always... his corner.
His to plant, his to nurture... his to not share.
This was the first anniversary, how the months have flown.
She had smirked as they dug up the patio, quietly chanting “How green you are” under her breath.
She had sung it even quieter when they prised the floorboards, when they searched the attic crawl space.
They finally accepted her story of abandonment, and her tears.
It was in full bloom again now. All those red droplets brought the memories flooding back.
Images flickered. A sneering smile. A raised spade. And all those red droplets.
More than one person had remarked what a good-for-nothing piece of manure he was.
They were wrong on one count. He was good for something.
Plant food.
©2014 Stephen. J. Green.
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Well she certainly buried him if not her memories LOL I expect that plant liked a bit of blood and bone ^_^
ReplyDeleteheheh! yeah, anything that will put a bit of colour into the petals. :-)
DeleteTop pun to start off and you didn't disappoint with the rest of the crop!
ReplyDeleteThanks Marc, I'm glad that it didn't leaf you confused. (Groan) :-)
DeleteThe clever little girl. Them coppers weren't smart enough to check the garden? Well, that's what you get for a low salaried job. A little bit blood meal is good food for some plants... or so I've heard. ;-)
ReplyDeleteLoved the twists and turns with this one, Steve. The play on words was wonderful. Well done.
Thank you Stephen. I think in real life she would never have got away with it, but I didn't want to spoil it for the fuchsia. :-)
DeleteBless a practical woman! Whether it's to nourish a field of corn *snarl* or a plant blooming beautifully, the important thing is that something grows, something lives out of death, perhaps in the eyes of the punisher, something much more worthy. Something theirs. A little secret. I love such stories. I love this story, Steve!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Cindy, you are very kind. :-)
DeleteI hope it stays a secret, I wouldn't want them hacking through all those new roots to dig the bones back up. lol.
We should remember that when we are feeling less than great, we are always good for at least one thing...
ReplyDeleteHi Jon. I only hope that I don't get to the stage where the only thing I feel I am good for is plant food though. :-)
DeleteI wish I had something better to say other than this is as awesome as your stories always are. Sinister and fantastic!
ReplyDeleteCatherine, thank you so much for the kind words, your comments are always a welcome confidence boost. :-)
DeleteThis reminded me of a short story from the 1950s or 60s... it shows up in textbooks a lot. It's about a pregnant woman who whacks her husband across the back of the head with a frozen leg of lamb when he gives her "bad news" (they don't say, but presumably he's leaving her). Then she sets the lamb to roast and goes out for peas. She calls the police when she gets back to the house, claiming she found him dead when she got in. The cops not only believe her, they help her eat the murder weapon.
ReplyDeleteIn this case, the woman doesn't have to even produce a dead body, just fake him leaving without a trace. She might even have an easier time of it if she leaves clues that he took off. Really she ought to plant a tree -- they love bones, and will use up the, um, material quickly.
I'm overthinking this, aren't I?
I think I have seen a film like that, Katherine, or one with a very similar plot, using a frozen joint as a murder weapon, I can't remember if they got away with it though.
DeleteThis story was partly inspired by our own fuchsia tree at the top of our garden, it hasn't been trimmed for a couple of years and at present is about seven feet tall and ten feet across. I'm keeping a wary eye on that plant, it looks rather like it would enjoy a bit of bone meal. LOL