Sanguine Fare
Trapped in an abusive home, Emma’s only source of happiness is her garden. Gifted with the ability to understand their needs, all her botanical friends flourish - except for one.
Excerpt:
The next morning, the state of her garden was not much improved. The plants he had not damaged were still wary, and those he had projected a constant keening. She spent time with each of them, nursing and pampering, trying with little success to regain the sense of peace they once shared.
She eventually knelt before the bundle of thorns and was shocked to find a crimson bud sheltering beneath the swatch of fabric she had not bothered to remove the day before.
“Where did you come from?”
There was something else new. It was hungry! Thrilled, she reached for the watering can, but stopped when she sensed its repulsion.
“What is it you want then, dear one?”
Fidgeting with the cloth as she pondered, a stiff spot caused her to look down. A dark brown stain was caught within its weave. Blood. With morbid curiosity, she pressed her thumb against a thorn and was immediately rewarded with a wave of eagerness. Taking her thumb away, it resumed its sullen hunger.
She sat back on her heels, beset with disquieting thoughts. What kind of plant was this? Could it be dangerous? What might come of offering the sanguine fare it desired?
Behind her, the rest of her garden lay in misery. Here before her was a chance to provide contentment. With wary resolve, she pricked her finger.
Author’s Note:
I never was a plant person, not for lack of trying. I spent a lifetime unintentionally causing their demise. However, when we landscaped our yard with decomposed granite, river rock, and - against my better judgement - a variety of drought tolerant greenery, much to my surprise, they thrived! I found myself talking to them as I puttered about the yard, which sparked the idea for this story.