Written with my Thursday night writing group with the prompts: rock the test, I prefer trees, fewer and fewer options for a detour, sad frowny face, rose-colored mess, hunting skills, red clam sauce on his shirt, red October maple tree, small against the sink, last time she saw him, Ecuadorian roses, new dominant animal, audacity to taunt, Juliet Gordon Lowe, what brings us joy
The last time Chloe saw Malcolm he’d dribbled red clam sauce down the front of his white dress shirt. She’d picked up a brush, and working with acrylics, skillfully connected the tomato dots into a beautiful painting of her family’s maple tree in October. Malcolm was so busy crafting computer code that he didn’t notice his lover transforming the rose-colored mess on his chest into a work of art.
Chloe was disappointed by his disinterest, and yet she was, as ever, undaunted. Although she was aware that fewer and fewer options were presenting themselves for a young woman of her unique talents to find a detour away from the mundane, she remained optimistic. She had rocked every standardized test and academic achievement and she was now highly sought after by ivy-league institutions, consulting agencies, and military academies. But oh, how such offers bored her! She responded to their queries with sad, frowny face emoticons.
Malcolm had the audacity to taunt her with admonishments like “You don’t know how lucky you are,” and “You could succeed at anything but you won’t apply yourself,” and “Yadda Yadda,” and “Yadda Yadda.”
Unbeknownst to Malcolm, his monotonous and unkind prattle provided the proper frequency, sending her into an alpha meditative state. An epiphany ensued, revealing that she must eschew ordinary careers and domestic relationships. Maybe she would hone her hunting skills and stalk fugitives from the law. Maybe she would travel to Ecuador and study the pollination of their elusive blue roses. Maybe she would study apex predators—perhaps wolves and panthers—seeking to discover the world’s most dominant species.
As she emerged from her trance, she noted that the man she thought she loved was still unaware of the beautiful maple she had painted on his chest. He had returned to the hypnotic pull of the computer screen. She herself had shrunk to the size of a House Finch, small against the kitchen sink. She was certain of one thing only: she preferred trees.
Without regret, she flew through the kitchen window into a redwood forest where she met Juliette Gordon Low, founder of the Girl Scouts, who was waiting for her there. “Please don’t ever be limited by the imagination of one man,” Mrs. Gordon Lowe told her. “The entire world belongs to you. Go forth and do what brings you joy.”
Indeed, agreed Chloe, for today it pleased her to be a Finch. She was small, she was brown, she blended in with tree trunk and branches, but her song was tremendously sweet and loud.
Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash
