A Micro Fiction: Dosage

Dear Reader,

When I asked some friends for some ideas for this week’s micro fiction I thought I might get a few fun ideas or prompts that would inspire something quirky or experimental like I have been doing recently.

Instead I got some requirements that led to a rather odd idea.

Those requirements were: a bee, a tree, something unsettling and “I am the first sentient houseplant.”.

This, as you can imagine, was rather tricky but I actually enjoy how it turned out. It’s something different, and not at all what I would have written without those suggestions.

It is somewhat unconventional and I’m not entirely sure it makes sense or that it’s clear what’s going on in the story, but hopefully you get the idea and enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Sincerely,

The Jade Writer Girl.

Dosage

‘I am the first sentient houseplant.’

Eve glanced up from her detailed depiction of a bee, raising her eyebrows as she surveyed the small bonsai plant sitting on her window sill.

“You can hardly call yourself a houseplant,” she said, tapping her pen against the pad of paper on her desk. “This isn’t a house, after all.”

‘I am the first sentient houseplant.’

‘Repeating it doesn’t make it so,’ said Eve, looking back down at her drawing.

Despite the drawbacks of having only a single blue, ballpoint pen, it wasn’t bad. It was one of her finest works, in fact. She liked bees. They were full of wonderful, anaphylactic wonder.

Like wasps and spiders and snakes. And the old frangipani plant she’d had, filled with it’s core of poisonous wonder. She sighed, missing Fran. After “The incident” they’d taken Fran away, and now Eve was stuck with an identity confused bonsai plant.

She had pens, at least, non-toxic though they were.

A sharp rap on the door pulled her attention away from the mechanics of the pen. The locks unclicked and rattled as the heavy, padded door swung inwards.

Eve dropped the pen onto her notebook and placed her hands flat on either side of the table as Troy entered, an easy smile on his face, despite his slow caution.

“How are you today, Eve?”

‘I am the first sentient houseplant.’

“Good,” said Eve. “George thinks he’s a houseplant. It’s laughable. He doesn’t realise he’s just crazy.”

Troy closed the door, nodding. He smiled, good-natured as always. He didn’t pretended like I was crazy. After all, we shared a mother, so he understood the situation. Mother was the whole reason I was here. With George, no less.

“George seems chatty.”

‘I am the first sentient houseplant.’

“It’s the new dose,” said Eve. “It makes me itchy, and it gives George an attitude.”

‘I am the first sentient houseplant.’

“You’ve been sharing your dose with George again?” asked Troy, crossing the room to examine George.

Troy shifted through the crushed up pills in George’s soil.

“They make him itchy too,” said Eve.

Troy straightened, shaking his head.

He gave me a wry look. “I can’t keep switching your meds. You know we won’t give you anything you can overdose on. Moth…uh, they are working on something new for you. Something that’ll clear your mind.”

Eve sighed. She stood and walked to the bed, careful not to cross within Troy’s personal space—always keep a one metre distance at all times. She flopped down onto the bed and glanced up at Troy from beneath her lashes.

“You’re very handsome,” she said, shifting her body on the bed.

A wry, somewhat uncomfortable, smile split Troy’s face. “Save it for George. I’ll talk to the doctors about upping your dose.”

“You’re a doll.”

As he left, the locks clicking back into place, George sighed wistfully after him. ‘I am the first sentient houseplant,’ he whispered huskilly.

“Oh, shut up already.”

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