The Reality Garden (Flash Fiction)
Credit: Kellen Riggin on Unsplash
“Today is May 2nd, 2092. It is 9:00AM. Here’s the Daily Scribe with your news updates . . .”
Deo’s hands and eyes were busy in the dirt as he listened carefully to the news. New developments arrived from a recent space expedition. A stricter set of laws is coming for xenoflora ownership. The race for military dominance in orbit is accelerating. Deo nodded at the expedition findings, but cursed at the rest. His focus broke at the sudden whine of a teenage voice.
“So where did you find this thing, anyway?”
Deo’s wrists popped as he plunged his hands deeper in the dirt and gave no answer. He kept his focus on the soil for as long as he could. The stare burned at the nape of his neck, and the awkward, impatient shuffling of the stranger’s feet finally drew a sigh from his lips.
“It came from Eden’s Cradle,” Deo answered, clapping the dirt from his hands. “Y’know, that ship that did a loop around Venus and came back? It’s not viewing hours, so you need to leave.”
Deo hoped the answer was enough. The craft and the strange seeds that bloomed on its hull were all over the news.
“Huh,” the stranger said. “I heard. . .”
“Shut up!” Deo spun to face the stranger; a deep impression left by his heel. “Why ask a question if you know the answer?”
The stranger stiffened at the outburst and took a step back. Deo moved between the stranger and the curiosity he was tending to. His voice began to crescendo, and a vein bulged in his neck.
“You’re the twentieth asshole to come into my greenhouse and tell me what you’ve heard! I don’t give a rat’s ass! Get the hell outta here!”
The stranger glared and whipped out their cell phone, aiming it in an outstretched arm. Deo tried to hide his face from the intrusive attack.
“So wassup my Truthseekers,” The Stranger said, smiling at Deo. The stranger tried to circle him, getting closer and closer to the plant. “We’re live at the Eastern Greenhouse, where this guy claims to have an alien plant.”
Deo’s foot caught the small hole his heel made earlier, and he tumbled to the ground.
“Wow,” The Stranger gasped. The small plant was finally in full view. “It does look fucking weird. I heard . . .”
“Stop!” Deo shouted as he attempted to stand, failing once, twice, three times. His ankle burned and protested at any level of weight. The stranger continued.
“I heard it was smaller!”
Deo quickly crawled over to the plant, covering it as a new stem began to branch from its main stem. His one imperative flashed in his mind; words in a voice like a whisper and an earthquake. The seed spoke to him when he first found it. It spoke with that strange whisper-boom and sent images speeding through his mind. He saw one Venus, then millions. One Earth loomed before him, then trillions, all on the branches of incomprehensible flora.
“ONE BRANCH. ALWAYS ONE.” The seed whispered and Venus roared. “IT IS YOUR GARDEN NOW. ATTEND IT. CULL IT. KEEP IT.”
This seed was his gift, the bloom his responsibility. Now, as he curled around the plant, letting this intruder rattle off possibilities, he bared his teeth at the idea of wasting it.
“Yo! It grows when I talk about it?!” The Stranger shouted. “Alright viewers! What have y’all heard?”
The Stranger continued to read off the constant stream of gossip surrounding the plant. New stems sprouted at increasing speeds. A faint tremor danced in the earth. Deo shook his head and reached for a lower stem, closer to the base.
“I warned you.” Deo sighed in resignation. He ripped away the stem.
The Stranger vanished.
Silence reigned for a little under a minute before Deo’s phone began to play the news.
“Today is May 2nd, 2092. It is 9:00AM. Here’s the Daily Scribe with your news updates . . .”
“Too many possibilities,” Deo said with a sigh, his shoulders slouched. “Let’s start again.”
