CARROT and BROCCOLLI

CARROT and BROCCOLLI
by
Jean Thibault Castagno

Carrot Stick was talking with Broccoli Stalk one fine day in the community garden sprawled out behind the local firehouse. Carrot was concerned about leaving his warm and fuzzy underground home before he was quite ready. And Broccoli was complaining about not enough rain. His many curls were beginning to wither. He was afraid that not a one of the many community gardeners would choose him when they began the yearly harvest.

Carrot laughed and said that Broccoli at least had curls. Carrot’s above ground greenery was ferny and flowery and light and feathery. Not a curl in sight. The fact is that he, himself, was edible and until a smart gardener understood the process, he wouldn’t be chosen either. After all, one had to know about the long, luscious and colorful vegetable hidden nicely and firmly in the ground.

Broccoli had to agree with Carrot’s assessment of their situation and added that his stalk was also edible but that most gardeners simply chopped it off and ate only his curls.

“Ah well,” said Carrot Stick and Broccoli Stalk. “At least we aren’t tomatoes; every time a gardener takes a bite, the tomato fights back and squishes and spills all over his many chins.”

“Makes me wonder why they prefer tomatoes?” said Broccoli as the rain began to fall and his curls began to perk up and almost dance above his stalk.

And while the rains helped Carrot’s feathery greenery to swing and sway above his brilliant orange personality, he commented that, one day, he hoped that the gardeners would try his light green feathery tops and leave his compact and shapely body alone.
The end