Day 4- Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more.
I have a confession to make.
I’m a serial killer.
Or is that a cereal killer?
I hope you’ve a pad and pen to record the list of my victims. It’s going to be long. You may get writers cramp. Better get a computer instead.
It started when I was young, back at school. It seemed all quite innocent and I didn’t mean for it to happen. I remember it was in science class. We all needed to grow a bean. In a little glass with dirt in it. They all lined the front of the class room. Tiny shoots in a glass row. Mine grew for a little while, then simply shiveled and died. I hadn’t done anything different. It had been growing quite well until then. I think I may have over-watered it, but there was no hard proof and so I got off with a reprimand. A ‘C’ for the assignment, I think.
The next was the little stocking man. I can’t remember the class he was for. Art…? Perhaps. We were given a foot of a stocking, filled it with dirt and grass seeds and drew little faces on him. We had to bring him back at the end of the week. Yes, well mine was the only one with blondy-brown hair that was falling out like a cancer patient. All the others had long, lusious locks of green.
This time I hadn’t over watered him like the bean, I made sure of that. I may have possibly under watered him. Like not at all. That could have been the reason he went bald quite quickly. Again, there was no hard proof. I can’t even remember the grade I got for that one.
I tried to be good. I tried to keep away from plants of any variety. I went to meetings, and resolutely refused to do Botany at high school, even though tempters (aka teachers) keep offering me the class. I don’t why that happened so many times. Perhaps they were desperate for numbers. Very desperate. Obviously.
A few years later I slipped. I didn’t mean to but I did. I unearthed a packet of radish seedlings from somewhere. Possible left behind by someone with evil intent. I figured it was worth a shot to see if I could get them to grew. I’m mean they’re radishes right? What could possibly go wrong?
I very carefully filled a long pot with nutrient rich dirt, planted them apart and kept them out on the patio. I even watered them with a measured amount. Checking to see that the dirt was moist but not sopping.
You wouldn’t believe it.
Little green shoots and everything. I was so excited. I kept an eye on them…and they stayed green.
Then came the day of harvest. Like a good little mummy, I tenderly pulled them out of the only home they knew, lovingly gave them their first ever bath and placed them on the cutting board.
This was awesome, I had actually made something grow and it hadn’t died in the process. I cut into a radish and took my first bite.
Yep, I’d forgotten to look at the instructions for when to harvest. A month after planting.
Not four. They were so woody, dry and tasteless I could have carved coffins out of them.
These were the first, but they are by no means the last. I have a list of dead greens a mile long. I’ve killed so many I can’t even remember all the names or places. I can’t even keep mint or a fern alive and apparently they are hard to kill.
Yes, I confess. I’m guilty. I’m the cereal killer dubbed – The Black Thumb
Would you like to read the other parts in this series?