Daniel and the Blade of Grass
Inevitably, Daniel Call found the single blade of grass that had haunted him since he was six years old. It was in the backyard of an old farmhouse that sat abandoned on the edge of a spreading suburb awaiting its demolition.
Daniel was fleeing the man whose wife he had just been caught sleeping with and was clothed only in a bathrobe and, fortunately, a pair of running shoes. As he vaulted the fence his trailing left foot caught on a protruding post and his forward momentum propelled him face-first towards the ground.
Spreading his hands in front of himself to cushion his impact, his fingers wound through the long grass and when he had pulled himself to his feet, three blades remained. He knew then that one of these was the one for which he had been searching since the day that Suzie Carmichael had told him as they were sitting beneath the Johnson's maple tree that she believed in faeries.
The first blade of grass told him, "cast her aside." The second said, "fight for her," and the third merely whispered, "my but it is a glorious day." Looking up, Daniel saw the sun and the blue and the white and the green that mingled and branched. Dropping the other two blades of grass to the ground, he put the third blade of grass in his mouth, chewed it and swallowed.
In point of fact, it was the second blade of grass that was his own, the one that had told him to fight, but it was too late, one can only eat one talking blade of grass in a life and Daniel had made his choice. He cannot really be faulted for his wrong choice because he was forced to make it literally on the run as the cuckolded husband had rounded the fence and was closing in again.
In the end, that it was not his blade of grass did not really matter. Though the fit was awkward at first, eventually Daniel changed to fill it and though the girl was lost, she had a twin sister in Minneapolis that though she was not quite as pretty and disagreed with him about the nature of the faerie economy, aged better and believed in the divine optimism.
Daniel was fleeing the man whose wife he had just been caught sleeping with and was clothed only in a bathrobe and, fortunately, a pair of running shoes. As he vaulted the fence his trailing left foot caught on a protruding post and his forward momentum propelled him face-first towards the ground.
Spreading his hands in front of himself to cushion his impact, his fingers wound through the long grass and when he had pulled himself to his feet, three blades remained. He knew then that one of these was the one for which he had been searching since the day that Suzie Carmichael had told him as they were sitting beneath the Johnson's maple tree that she believed in faeries.
The first blade of grass told him, "cast her aside." The second said, "fight for her," and the third merely whispered, "my but it is a glorious day." Looking up, Daniel saw the sun and the blue and the white and the green that mingled and branched. Dropping the other two blades of grass to the ground, he put the third blade of grass in his mouth, chewed it and swallowed.
In point of fact, it was the second blade of grass that was his own, the one that had told him to fight, but it was too late, one can only eat one talking blade of grass in a life and Daniel had made his choice. He cannot really be faulted for his wrong choice because he was forced to make it literally on the run as the cuckolded husband had rounded the fence and was closing in again.
In the end, that it was not his blade of grass did not really matter. Though the fit was awkward at first, eventually Daniel changed to fill it and though the girl was lost, she had a twin sister in Minneapolis that though she was not quite as pretty and disagreed with him about the nature of the faerie economy, aged better and believed in the divine optimism.
posted by Spike at 7:53 AM
5 ins. outs. what-have-yous.
