Flash Fiction |
Mrs. Potts “I found a lovely sprout in my yard when I was raking. Years ago, of course. It was lovely, a different green than I had ever seen. I almost stepped on it, but jogged, just missing it with my shoe. It was so delicate looking I immediately wanted to save it. I dug it up, being very careful to get all its roots. Not that I needed to, they were small and it only had the two. Then I brought the tiny plant in. Just an empty jar at first, but soon after I found a bigger, prettier pot because, honestly I loved this plant. And this plant seemed to tell me when to water, and eventually re-pot and eventually, just so many more things! I named him Greenie... He not only listens, he talks back. He is very smart, and I don’t mean for a plant either! He’s the one who told me I had to hurry to the hospital, that my appendix was ready to burst!” “Didn’t you feel any pain? Didn’t you know you had a fever?” asked the nurse. “Well, I knew I wasn’t feeling well, I thought it was what I ate at breakfast.” “Well, good! And as soon as you are better you can go back and tell, ah?…” “Greenie.” “Yes.” As nurse Wicks left the room, she met the doctor. “How is Mrs. Potts doing?” “She told me all about her plant?” “Oh good, I’ll let Greenie know.” “Excuse me?” “Greenie is her son, a real son, a human.” “And she thinks he’s a plant?” “It’s a step up, said the psychiatrist, she originally told me he was a mouse!” |