In The Garden
So I'm kneeling in the garden digging up weeds, swatting mosquitoes that are feeding off the buffet of my flesh. It's a tricky balance of hand shoveling, pressing the tip of the tool... just so... underneath the roots of the weeds so that they won't grow back in a week.
And as I'm doing that I'm evading the swarm of nasty insects that pierce my flesh, suck my blood and leave these flesh bumps that demand to be scratched to relieve the incredible itch that won't go away.
I've been weeding for two hours in 93 degree heat and I've had it. I'm done.
I'm sweating, I'm tired, and these "skeetoes" are just too much. Just this last one and then back into the house where I will sit in air-conditioning and sip ice cold lemonade and gorge on chocolate chip cookies.
I tip the point of the small spade l at a 45 degree angle and thrust the tip into the soil.
"Hey...", says a tiny little voice.
"Not so hard " pleads the voice.
"What the ..??" I shake my head and quickly withdraw the shovel.
"Thanks, " says the voice. I stare at the weed and blink my eyes. I rationalize:
Too much sun..too much heat. Excessive blood loss from feasting mosquitoes...I need air-conditioning. A cold drink...I need...
"Much better " says the voice.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath and count to five. I open my eyes and there
it is. The weed now has a face. That's it..I'm outta here. I begin to stand up when the face says.
"So.that's it? Giving up?"
I shake my head, slap my face twice.
"Does that make you feel better?" The face is now smiling.
"No, you're still here.,"
"Sometimes you just have to accept that annoying little things like weeds and small biting insects that suck your blood will be there."
"Why?" I ask.
"Because that's life," says the face...and it gives me a great big smile.
"And as much as you do...you'll never completely get rid of us. You can dig us up, and swat all you want, and we may be gone temporarily but..we'll be back."
"Mmmm" I say.
"Well then if that's the way it is I might as well just..." i grab the spade and aim the sharp tip at the face..which is no longer laughing.
"See you in two weeks" I say.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Joseph Trance.
Published on e-Stories.org on 09/20/2023.