25 June 2006

Green Fingers - Digitally re-mastered

I want to thank Mike for the opportunity, and to Jenn for the inspiration. It's been a while since words flowed this easily, and that's pretty much why I started this blog - to start writing again. I wrote this one before 'Bleeding', but didn't want to post it until Mike had posted the 500-word version.

Anyway, I've just done a small re-edit (again). Hope you like this one as much as I got a buzz out of completing a story again


GREEN FINGERS - DIRECTOR’S CUT

The car pulled up outside, its tyres crunching the gravel as it came to a stop. She just had to pull in after seeing that sign. She needed some new flowers for the entrance hall anyway, so the sign had certainly done its job and piqued her interest. As she approached the entrance doors they opened automatically. The immediate aroma of a thousand blossoming flowers hit her full in the face, inviting her in further. A handsome man wearing a leather apron appeared from a side door.

“Can I help you Madam?”

“Um.. Hi. I’m just looking for a new arrangement for the entrance hall of Grovesenor House..” He smiled, showing a little of his perfect teeth.

“Yes, I know the place, I stayed there a while back during a florist’s conference, in the Mersham suite” his slightly upper class accent was quite captivating, she brushed her hair over her ear with her left hand, she could see him looking at the absence of a ring on her fingers. ‘Oh god, I must be coming across as a terrible flirt’ she thought to herself. She’d read enough magazine articles about body language to realise she was giving off enough signals to fill a 4-page spread. She forced her hands together behind her back as they discussed various bouquets and posies. After a short while she remembered the reason she‘d been attracted to this place.

“Actually, I couldn’t help but notice the sign outside, something about a ‘Corpse Flower’? His smile faltered slightly, but returned swiftly.

“Ah, the Titan Arum” He nodded sagely. “Yes, I’ve been lucky enough to have had the privilege of cultivating one and it’s successfully beginning to bloom. We’re all very proud. Would you like to see it?

Nodding slightly, she followed him through the door he had appeared through earlier. She entered a large room filled with brushed metal tables. The ceiling contained wired glass panels, letting the natural light in, however many warm lights hung from the rafters. A short and stocky figure was busying himself in the shadows, removing small potted plants from a large table and placing them in a small shelved alcove. A small sniff alerted her back to the florist, who was beckoning her to one side. He led her to a large wooden planter, long but narrow, but contained only one large, and very pungent flower. She placed her hand to her face, covering her nose.
“Oh, God. That really stinks!” She smiled while grimacing, but noticed he didn’t cover his own nose.

“It’s a small price to pay for something so beautiful”, He picked up some secateurs and moved to the other side of the crate. “This is one of the rarest flowers on the planet, they date back to prehistoric times, you know. Normally they can take up to 20 years of cultivation before they flower, and when they do, they only bloom for 3 or 4 days”. He was gazing at the flower with an almost fatherly affection, carefully clipping and preening the plant. She scoffed slightly.

“Seems like a lot of effort for something like that” He looked up sharply

“Like what?” He looked quite stern. She faltered, even daring to take her hand from her face.

“Well… I mean.. 20 years of cultivation, to make something that doesn’t really do anything except stink like.. Well… death”. He straightened up and placed his sharp gardening shears on the moist soil beside the plant and removed his gloves.

“It makes that smell to attract carrion flies, and blow flies, who pollinate the plant. It’s quite ingenious, actually” His voice carried a note of bitterness. She was starting to feel a little embarrassed. This guy really cared for his plants. He seemed to notice her unease, and brightened up slightly. “Actually, we’ve developed a new cultivation method, and we’ve managed to reproduce several shoots, which are coming along nicely”. He walked over to another set of doors, made of flexible plastic. There was an identical set of doors just beyond. In the room she could see several more large crates, each filled with the same moist soil, each containing a small, young version of the plant that had assailed her senses earlier. The man she saw in the shadows earlier was in the room, wearing what looked like a bee-keepers suit, flies buzzing around his head. “Blowflies. Wonderful for the flowers but hell if they bite you - which they will…”

“Um.. Look.. Sorry if I offended you earlier, it’s just I’m obviously a bit 'green' when it come to flowers”. The charming smile was back

“Not to worry, I suppose I do dedicate quite a lot of my own time to these plants, we’re hoping it’ll save this place. We’re only just keeping our heads above water, but these plants will go for at least a thousand each. we’re always looking for an extra body around the place to help out, as it were”. She looked at him, was he offering her a job? Job? Oh crap! Work! She was about 20 minutes late on her lunch break, she looked at her watch. 25 minutes late.

“Oh damn. I‘m late back to work. Thanks for your time, but I think I should get some flowers and head off”. As she turned back to the doors that entered back into the main display area, she felt a sharp pain in the side of her neck. She moved to turn around but crumpled in a heap on the floor.
~
Her eyes opened. She couldn’t feel anything, no sensation of any part of her body, She tried to call out but neither her lungs, mouth nor vocal cords complied. The lights strung from beams across the ceiling shone brightly upon her, but she felt no heat. She was lying down, she could move her eyes, but not her head, she frantically looked around, but couldn’t see anything within her field of vision except the lights and glass panels in the roof.

A drop of red liquid fell onto her eye, turning the lights orange, she blinked it away. A conversational voice broke the silence.

“Hmm. looks like we need some more phycotoxin, Greg. This one’s conscious. I’ll have to find a better way of cultivating the algae later… Hand me that trowel, will you?”

What the hell was going on? Although her entire body was numb, she had the sensation that her head was moving slightly from side to side. The movement increased and her head fell to one side. Slowly she realised she was looking at a glazed cabinet, but with the brightly lit room it acted as a mirror. She could see the florist, wearing a bee-keepers suit. She looked at herself. Her clothes had been removed, but she had hessian sheets draped over her body, only her midriff exposed. The florist put down his shears and picked up a small shoot, similar to the ones she had seen earlier, god knows how long ago that was. She strained her eyes to see what he was doing when she focused on the shears. They were covered in blood. Her blood. She started to breathe heavier as he placed a gloved hand on her abdomen. Before she could comprehend what he was doing, he removed the section of skin and flesh he had cut, exposing the intestines below. She screamed without making a sound. Her eyes wide with horror as he calmly inserted the plant into her body.

Without saying a word, he calmly started throwing soil around her, until it was quite thick. He picked up his shears and swiftly sliced open her lower arms, the blood pumping freely into the soil, which quickly soaked it up.

The florist grabbed her head in both hands and moved it gently to look at her, as tears flowed from her eyes like streams.

“We’re all very proud of you, thanks for your help, we really appreciate it.”

Her head fell back down to the cabinet and she saw the many crates around her, all with shoots sprouting from them.

“we’ve developed a new cultivation method”

He lifted the sides of the crate around her, nailing the pieces into place. Smiling that charming smile, he emptied more soil over her body. Just before he completely covered her head, the last thing her fading consciousness heard was the sound of tyres on gravel outside.

“Greg, another customer…!”

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

In this case, longer was better yet.