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Creative Nonfiction Speculative

This story contains themes or mentions of mental health issues.

PART 1


“I’m thinking of getting a new pot for you. I think your roots are getting too crowded in there.”

“That would be nice. How would you get the pot here?”

“I could order it and have it delivered. I’ll ask them to leave it outside my door. Or maybe I’ll ask my mom.”

“That would be nice.”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll do that— for you too, Shiva.”

“Thank you, dear.”

“Shiva, you have enough water?”

“…”

“…Shiva?”

“Oh yes, I have enough water. Maybe even too much.”

“Too much?”

“Well…I don’t drink much. It takes me a while to get through the amount of water you give me. Lately, I feel like you’ve been…overdoing it.”

“I’m so sorry!”

“No, it’s quite alright. You didn’t know.”

“But I should know! It’s my job to know. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“All is well, dear.”

“You guys gotta tell me what you need from me. I’m new to this. When I’m giving you too much of something, from now on, I want you to just scream at me to stop!”

“Really dear, it’s quite alright. I’m okay.”

“That’s not the point. What about you Bean? Are you getting enough sun?”

“Yeah, the sun’s fine in here. Water levels are good too. No stress.”


***


“Hi mom—I’m good, I’m good—do you think you could stop by tomorrow and bring a new pot for the plants?—yeah—just a bit bigger than the current ones—and maybe some more distilled water — yeah, the 4 litre ones…Oh, they’re good. W-we’re all good here, mom. We’re all good. Don’t worry—Anyway, h-how are you, though? — Yeah? —How’s the garden? —that’s good—Okay. — Thank you. Thank you…Okay—Love you too…Bye.”


***


-- "hey i really appreciate your reply to my question in the thread. it was very helpful."
>> "oh it's my pleasure :-) i know what it's like to not leave my apartment for a while. 
take it one day at a time!"
>> "how long has it been?"
-- "going on 22 days now."
>> "do you think you'll go out soon?"
-- "i don't know. i try not to think too much about it 🙃"
>> "i get it. has the pandemic made it worse for you?"
-- "a bit, yeah. i work from home too and get my groceries delivered. when the winter 
started i stopped wanting to go anywhere. i guess i just got into a habit of staying 
inside where it's comfortable and safe."
>> "safe from what, if you dont mind me asking?"
-- "stickers...garbage, dampness and stuff. they make me coil up."


PART 2


“Did you guys hear that?”

“Maybe. What did it sound like?”

“Like buzzing—quick buzzing. Like a zipper fading. It makes the hairs on my arm stick up. Ugh! It gives me chills behind my neck.”

“I didn’t hear it.”

“What about you Shiva?”

“I don’t think so, dear—”

“There! There it is again. Did you hear?!”

“…”

“Neither of you heard that?!”

“I think something might’ve just brushed past me now—to my left.”

“Oh yes, I felt that too, on my right.”

“I’m gonna turn the light on…”

“…Do you see anything?”

“Oh…wait… I see it. It’s a fly…How the fuck did it get in here?”

“I think it flew in, dear.”


***


-- "Your turn. what are you afraid of?"
>> "horses. wasps.😖"
-- "...two very different things!" 
>> "with horses, it's a bit of a feedback loop with my fear. i know they smell fear. 
it gets them frazzled."
>> "they're beautiful creatures and i'd love to get close to them, but im afraid that the
smell of my fear will set them off and get me bucked. and i dont know how to tame my fear
when im around them. so i stear clear completely." 
>> "and then with wasps, it's just pure fear and respect for the tiny yellow beasts. i
see their purpose in nature. i know they're attracted to the taste of sweat on my skin. i
know if i just stand still or keep moving, theyll eventually buzz off. but the moment i
become aware that im in their presence i'm paralyzed. i become a statue for them to
ravish and lick up as they please. im not repulsed by wasps. im utterly terrified of them
and the prospect of being stung." 
-- "yeah that makes sense. so it's the pain you fear." 
>> "yeah. just like you."


***


-- "if death were 'quick and painless', do you think we'd all be (less) afraid to die?"
>> "i dont think we'd be afraid of anything, really." 
>> "...but i guess we're already slowly dying anyway. and life is painful at times, and
life can be painless at times. it changes."
>> "inherently, i don't think pain is what scares us most about dying. and i don't think
the prospect of death being long and drawn out is what ultimately scares us either. i
think what scares us most is the unknown; the "possibility of". death is this great black
hole. and every brush with pain is a taste of it. pain is a reminder of our fragile
mortality. but we can't actually sample the death in its entirety the way we can with
conventional pain. the concept of death is much too final and forbidden."
>> "i dont want to die, and im afraid of horses and wasps because they threaten my
precious life. so i clutch my pearls with all of my heart and dare not let go, 
so help me god. else i fall into death stew."
>> "...but i guess we're already slowly dying anyway. and being bucked by a horse or stung 
by insect beings in yellow jackets would just knock me out of life a little bit faster."


***


“Bean, do you like it here? Would you rather be outside?”

“I’m no more inside than I am outside, in here. A prison is just an illusion, as well as the restless objects inside of it.”


***


“I see you finally landed, little thing. Sunbathing on the ceiling. Tired yourself out from buzzing incessantly last night?”

“Worry not. I will be dead soon. I have all of 28 days to live and breathe, from start to finish. That is the fate of a fly. We live, we eat, we die. I was born here and I will likely die here. I reckon you are destined for a similar fate. We fly folk are attracted to rot—we live for it. Humans are not. But someone’s gotta eat shit. We chase the rot, that’s what we’re born to do. In fact, that’s how I found you. Are you rotting?”

“No. I’m very much alive.”

“You’re alive, but are you living?”

“I’m still here aren’t I?”

“Yes, slowly spoiling away in a luxury box. Barely itching to live. Meanwhile, your scent of fear and decay intoxicates me and my unborn maggots, as we count down the days, hours, minutes, and seconds until your mind and body ferment. Meanwhile, I could drop dead at any momen—.” 

February 24, 2023 14:08

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1 comment

Mae Lynn Wallace
21:42 Mar 05, 2023

I enjoyed the way you changed scenes and think that you did so with great finesse. The thread of the story didn't get lost or choppy throughout the transitions and your use of formatting and dialogue shifts was on-point. I loved the ending. Great work!

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