Wash and Wendy sittin' in a tree...
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(9/10/05 7:43 pm) Reply
They Call it Earth SometimesJust a little something. Inspired by the fffriday challenge. But i don't have an lj.
They Call it Earth Sometimes
by somedeepmystery
“I’m afraid I don’t understand the point of this, husband.”
Dirt hadn’t been apart of her childhood. She’d never made mud pies, or built sandcastles. Never dug deep holes just because.
He had built a lot of sandcastles. Although, admittedly they had usually looked a lot more like ships when he was younger. Or a hover, a speeder, anything that moved fast.
“There isn’t a point, angel cakes, and there in lies the point itself.”
She had grown a tiny spot of grass once. In an eggshell under a day lamp. She had been amazed by it then, and she’d wanted to keep it but the lamp used too much energy and they needed it for themselves.
“So, you’re saying its lack of purpose is its purpose?”
Dirt. His grandmother had called it earth. He supposed that was handed down from Earth-That-Was. Grams had plenty of fanciful notions about earth too. How we came from it. How it gave to us and how we’d return to it. It smelled like life she said. He let it fall through his fingers now. He didn’t have any poetical notions about it, but it was cool and dark, and something about digging in it felt normal. Right.
“Exactly, I can’t believe you’ve never done this.”
She’d had more then enough dirt later in life. She’d been covered in it, shoved in it. She’d breathed it, ate it, made it her bed. She’d spent hours lying in mud. She’d had it crammed so far under her nails it had taken more then a year to get it all out.
“I’m not touching that.”
“C’mon, it’s not gonna hurt ya.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“It is not, it’s like, nature,” he was smiling at her. She hated that smile, she couldn’t resist him like that. “See, all around us, nature in all her glory.” She looked around. It was pretty.
“Why?” she asked giving him her best you’ve-lost-your-mind look. “We won’t be around to harvest it.”
“I already told you, that’s not the point.” He reached out a soiled hand and took hers. The dirt on his fingers felt cool and slightly damp against her skin. The smell of it was pungent nearly overwhelming. It should’ve been a bad smell, but strangely enough she found it wasn’t at all. He pressed the small seedling plant into her palm. “There no just stick it in that hole there.” He said pointing to the hold he’d made with a small shovel like tool. She smirked at him and plopped it in. He rolled his eyes. “Now, you know put dirt around it. Pack it down a bit.”
She gave him a hard look, but he didn’t back down. Little man. Too bold for his own good. She told herself, this was the reason you didn’t let them get so close. Now he had years of practice ignoring her hard stares. She relented under the laughter of his bright blue eyes, and leaned forward, pressing her hands into the dark soil. She used her palms to slide the loose dirt in filling the space around the small green plant. She pressed gently and felt the give and spring of it beneath her fingers.
“Look sweetie, you planted a bit of life. How does it feel?” He said with mock awe. She looked down at that tiny thing, a couple of leaves sticking up from the dirt, lined up in a neat row with its fellows.
“Fun.” She said. He smiled more brightly. If anything was worth it that was.
“You gave it what it needed and now the rest is up to the earth.
“Earth?”
“Yeah, you know the dirt.” He said squinting into the sun as he looked at the gathering of people here in this tiny sustenance garden. “They call it earth sometimes.”
“Earth.” She repeated and took and handful and let it run through her fingers as he had.