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“I’m thinking of getting a new pot for you. I think your roots are getting too crowded in there.”
“That would be nice. How would you get the pot here?”
“I could order it and have it delivered. I’ll ask them to leave it outside my door. Or maybe I’ll ask my mom.”
“That would be nice.”
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll do that— for you too, Shiva.”
“Thank you, dear.”
“Shiva, you have enough water?”
“…”
“…Shiva?”
“Oh yes, I have enough water. Maybe even too much.”
“Too much?”
“Well…I don’t drink much. It takes me a while to get through the amount of water you give me. Lately, I feel like you’ve been…overdoing it.”
“I’m so sorry!”
“No, it’s quite alright. You didn’t know.”
“But I should know! It’s my job to know. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“All is well, dear.”
“You guys gotta tell me what you need from me. I’m new to this. When I’m giving you too much of something, from now on, I want you to just scream at me to stop!”
“Really dear, it’s quite alright. I’m okay.”
“That’s not the point. What about you Bean? Are you getting enough sun?”
“Yeah, the sun’s fine in here. Water levels are good too. No stress.”
***
“Hi mom—I’m good, I’m good—do you think you could stop by tomorrow and bring a new pot for the plants?—yeah—just a bit bigger than the current ones—and maybe some more distilled water — yeah, the 4 litre ones…Oh, they’re good. W-we’re all good here, mom. We’re all good. Don’t worry—Anyway, h-how are you, though? — Yeah? —How’s the garden? —that’s good—Okay. — Thank you. Thank you…Okay—Love you too…Bye.”
***
“Did you guys hear that?”
“Maybe. What did it sound like?”
“Like buzzing—quick buzzing. Like a zipper fading. It makes the hairs on my arm stick up. Ugh! It gives me chills behind my neck.”
“I didn’t hear it.”
“What about you Shiva?”
“I don’t think so, dear—”
“There! There it is again. Did you hear?!”
“…”
“Neither of you heard that?!”
“I think something might’ve just brushed past me now—to my left.”
“Oh yes, I felt that too, on my right.”
“I’m gonna turn the light on…”
“…Do you see anything?”
“Oh…wait… I see it. It’s a fly…How the fuck did it get in here?”
“I think it flew in, dear.”
***
***
***
“Bean, do you like it here? Would you rather be outside?”
“I’m no more inside than I am outside, in here. A prison is just an illusion, as well as the restless objects inside of it.”
***
“I see you finally landed, little thing. Sunbathing on the ceiling. Tired yourself out from buzzing incessantly last night?”
“Worry not. I will be dead soon. I have all of 28 days to live and breathe, from start to finish. That is the fate of a fly. We live, we eat, we die. I was born here and I will likely die here. I reckon you are destined for a similar fate. We fly folk are attracted to rot—we live for it. Humans are not. But someone’s gotta eat shit. We chase the rot, that’s what we’re born to do. In fact, that’s how I found you. Are you rotting?”
“No. I’m very much alive.”
“You’re alive, but are you living?”
“I’m still here aren’t I?”
“Yes, slowly spoiling away in a luxury box. Barely itching to live. Meanwhile, your scent of fear and decay intoxicates me and my unborn maggots, as we count down the days, hours, minutes, and seconds until your mind and body ferment. Meanwhile, I could drop dead at any momen—.”
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I enjoyed the way you changed scenes and think that you did so with great finesse. The thread of the story didn't get lost or choppy throughout the transitions and your use of formatting and dialogue shifts was on-point. I loved the ending. Great work!
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