Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Writing Wednesday: Diary of a Plant- Part 2

Read Part 1 here.

My shoot continued to droop as I felt lost without my seed. What was I supposed to do now?
Before I could fall further into despair, I was hit with another, completely foreign sensation. Did all living things get taken by surprise one thing after another? Was this what living  was? Never knowing what was going to happen next?

The sensation, or rather, sensations, came from the base of my shoot. I felt wriggling and tickling movements come from below. I panicked at first, terrified that the rest of me was going to fall apart just as my seed had.

But, oh! A delicious, rich, wonderful feeling came tingling up through my shoot from the base. Mmmm, it was so satisfying. I hadn’t known how empty my little being had felt until that empty space was suddenly filled with delicious….something!
My shoot straightened. I felt strength coursing through my little self and suddenly I found that I now had the energy to return to my original task of pushing through the wet darkness that surrounded me.

What had changed? As my shoot kept feeling stronger, I looked back down to where my seed at been. What had been a scene of tragedy only a little while before now made me wiggle with joy. I had now had tiny little roots sticking out into the sticky goop. They must have been what was itching so horribly, my seed was holding them back! Once they were freed, they had begun to bring all of that delicious strength into the rest of me.

So, my seed had not been sacrificed in vain. I looked at the broken seed pieces with great reverence for a moment, and then, bravely, I turned my attention back up to where I was pushing my shoot through the darkness. It was time to see what lay beyond this dark little world of tragedy and triumph, it was time to step into the great beyond.


Whatever that was…


Thursday, August 31, 2017

Writing Wednesday: Diary of Plant- Part 1

(Diary of a Plant- Part 1)
I was first aware of my existence when the hard outside of my seed cracked open and my tiny shoot pushed upward. It was dark and moist, and very still.
I wiggled my shoot around, trying to get my bearings. I knew very little about where I was, who I was, or for what purpose I had been born. All I knew was this, I had to get my shoot out of the dark.
At this time, I could not have explained to you why or how I knew this, or even what existed beyond the dark. I just knew I needed to push my shoot in a specific direction.
I made a brave attempt to do this, but after only a little while I was completely exhausted. I stopped wriggling and considered what to do with the limited information I had. During this time of contemplation, I felt a slight itch in my seed. It was small at first, small enough that I could ignore it while keeping my focus on more important things.
However, after just a short amount of time, the itching sensation grew to the point of being unbearable.
I suddenly found new energy I did not know I possessed as my discomfort drove me to thrash around in my seed. What was this agony? Had I only been born to suffer?
My passionate and pained musings were suddenly doused, drenched in fact, by the sudden arrival of something cold and startling. It made my dark surroundings seem even darker, and, stickier. Clumps of dark goop stuck together around my seed and shoot.
The sudden arrival of this new thing had momentarily distracted me from how itchy my seed was, but now an entirely new sensation brought my attention back around.
My seed was breaking! The new, cold thing had made my seed grow bigger and now it was breaking!
Despite the fact that my seed was causing me intense discomfort, it was still the thing holding my shoot steady. It was all I had ever known in my short life. I frantically tried to cling to it as it began to break away.
My tiny world was changing and there was nothing I could do about it.
I panicked as my seed broke completely away from my shoot. The pieces lay around me, dead and useless, as if they hadn't been the thing that brought me to life.

My shoot drooped in the sticky darkness as I mourned my broken world. Could my short life be over before I had even begun it?