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smeraldos · 4 years ago

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In Which You Meet a Wizard Without Knowing

gif: @bts_westv on twitter

↬ characters: taehyung x reader

↬ genres: fantasy, adventure, a 'lil fluff. Howl's Moving Castle!AU

↬ words: 1.5K+

↬ summary: While your sisters dreamt of success and affluence, you stuck to what you knew. It was better that way. Less risky. For any who inquired, your hats went out into the world for you.

What you didn't expect was to encounter a mystery of a man, and along with him, a misadventure for two.

In all his years of drifting, the spirit has never met someone who sought him out. Some took a little coaxing, a little dangling of the fruit, and others took a slight push off the edge, but this.

This boy was ripe for the taking. He wasn’t innocent, no. He knew what he’d come for, and that pleased the spirit. He shrunk himself into the size of a kumquat and leapt into the boy’s hands.

Once the deed is done, he began, there is no undoing.

The boy told him he knew. He was very solemn about it. He had the face of someone who could have become a great man.

The spirit looked at him with an expression often mistaken for pity. Then he told the boy to swallow him, and the boy’s heart was no more.

The rumors flying about the wizard V are quite sensational.

They give him flair; an air of dark, beguiling intrigue he does not wish for, yet welcomes all the same. They give him a character to play. And now, he’s landed the part of a dashing escapee, leading his pursuers down a network of sharp turns and secret alleys.

Ahead, the sun gleams like a penny scrubbed to shine. The sky is sweet and rosy. A guard courts a young lady…how trite. V would have left the two alone had he not noticed the lady, no lure of a smile or blush upon her cheeks.

You back away, your dress blending in with the wall. Your eyes search desperately for an escape, eventually finding his. Well. He sighs. It wasn’t as if he was planning to leave you be. That would be quite heartless.

"I'm late, aren't I?" V asks, announcing his presence. "Forgive me, I lost track of the time. To the theatre?"

You accept his proffered arm, hesitant. He can tell you're a bit wary, and rightly so.

“And where do you think you’re going?” The guard demands, blocking his exit. “The lady and I haven’t finished our talk.”

“With all due respect," V says, suppressing a scoff, "I think you are.”

In an instant, the guard stiffens. His eyes widen. “What--” He starts, but marches off before he can finish.

With that pest gone, V turns his attention back to you...who really can’t be more than twenty. You look dreary in your choice of attire -- gray shawl, gray dress, dull hat over a meek face. If it were not for your stunned look, he’d say you lacked spark. Yet his business lies not in assessing your appearance. He's running short on time. “Do you mind telling me where you’re headed?”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll be your escort for the evening," he explains.

“Oh,” you blurt out, letting go of his arm, “thank you, but an escort won’t be necessary.” With a hasty dip of your head, you leave, bumping into a woman in the process. When you move to apologize, you realize she has no face.

Just a dark head and a liquid, convulsing body.

"So where to?" The gentleman asks, and this time when he approaches, you don’t hesitate to take his arm.

"Cesari's," you murmur, lest the creature hear you. It’s where your sister works, and you've been worried enough as it is.

He guides you briskly down a cobbled path. "I'd advise you not to look back."

In the distance, you hear a collective groaning, the crack of wood splintering. Low at first, the groaning rises steadily in pitch, the crack of wood quickening like strikes of a whip drawing blood. Your heart drums fast. Suddenly, a dark creature swoops toward you, screaming shrilly. V turns you abruptly to the right.

Phantoms lurk around the corner, shrieking as they lunge, but the next alley leads to a wall. Your breath catches. From the cracks burst out more phantoms, and you grip the gentleman's sleeve, squeezing your eyes shut.

The next moment, you can't feel the ground. The howling and screeching fall away, growing softer and softer until you can hear them no more.

You venture a look.

"Careful," the gentleman warns, a second too late. "We're quite high up."

Quite high up? You'd have to be -- you don't know, geography has never been your strong suit -- a few hundred meters above the ground! You're flying. There’s nothing to hold onto except the gentleman's bejewelled hands, and while the view of Market Chipping is beautiful, you're going to fall.

"Are you mad?" You ask, trying not to panic.

He laughs. "I'm surprised you didn't notice. Now take a step."

Your first one is shaky. Without any surface to step on, it feels like you're sinking instead of floating.

"Imagine you're taking a stroll," the gentleman suggests. "Look, there’s the patisserie, the flora, and the...fauna. Strange, that shouldn’t be there.”

To your horror, his grip on you loosens just a bit, and you yelp, prompting his attention.

”Why don’t you think of a song?” He asks.

“A dirge, you mean. A funeral song.”

“I know what a dirge is,” he snaps. “You, on the other hand...”

It didn’t work.

V thought he could distract you with a squabble, but your palms are still as clammy as ever.

So to pacify your stubborn fear (so tangible he can feel it), he coaxes you into giving him a tour of Market Chipping. At first, you insist it's been quite some time since you've set foot outside and you're likely missing a place or few. How long is quite some time, he asks, mostly in jest, and is surprised when you tell him. He doesn’t show it. Instead, he assures you it’s of little import, because really, he's just settled in, so do you know any merchants who sell paintings? He's been itching for something to spruce up his residence -- the walls are bleak and empty.

By the time you reach Cesari’s, the stars are just beginning to shimmer. Night falls rapidly over the horizon, and you're surprised at the sudden desire you feel to prolong the conversation.

"Would you like to come in for biscuits and tea? Surely Joy can get us a discount--" You catch yourself, noting the lustrous gold winding his velvet cape, the violet glint of sapphires dangling from his ears. "Not that you'll need it."

"No," he says, releasing your hand gently. "But I appreciate the offer. I must get going."

"Good night, then," you say. "And thank you for escorting me. I enjoyed your company."

He smiles a soft smile, his most disarming one yet. "The pleasure is all mine." With a slight bow, he vanishes from sight.

The sweet scent of cinnamon and sugar beckons you into Cesari's, yet you feel no urge to enter. Lingering by the balcony, you watch the festivities below, the lights and colorful dresses appearing small and whimsical, a bit like you’re peering through a snow globe. For the first time in a while, you feel a childlike wonder. You hadn't realized you missed it.

Too late you realize you should have asked for the gentleman's name.

"Who was that?" A bright voice, clear out of nowhere, asks. "I didn't get a good look."

"Joy!" You exclaim, recognizing the fair features of your sister. Although she seems a bit thinner. It worries you, but you bite your tongue. Joy, after all, doesn't take to chiding. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting some fresh air." She stretches leisurely, a mischievous grin on her lips. "So imagine my surprise when I hear my sister offering a discount without consulting me first."

"You heard that?"

"The pleasure is all mine," she mimics, putting on an exaggerated, deep tone.

"Well, I suppose it serves me right."

"Please!" Joy laughs. "You shouldn’t be so proper. What are biscuits and tea compared to your happiness?"

"Not as--"

"No," she interrupts. "Don't answer that. I'm doing well here despite the amount of pesky suitors. They're nothing I can't handle, so j...just let me help you thrive, too. So long as it isn't V you're handing your heart to."

You miss the awkward falter in Joy's words, touched and baffled as you are by her sentiment. "Doesn't he only eat the hearts of beauties? I'd be more concerned if I were you."

"Or," she muses, "he feeds on beautiful, innocent hearts, and we've been fools all along."

When she looks at you, chills creep up your spine. "Are you trying to frighten me?"

"Well, do you have a beautiful heart?" She retorts.

"I don’t know."

"Exactly," she says. "And no one can fathom why V chose to stay here of all places. That's why we--"

"Joy!" Someone shouts from inside.

"I'm on break!" She shouts back, but the woman calls out to her again. Joy pulls an annoyed face, and for a second, you think you see a bit of Irene in her expression. Then she breathes and returns to her pleasant self. "Come in." She twists the doorknob open. "I'll finish telling you later."

As you follow her, a creature slithers under the balcony, quiet for now.

It's dark and pulsing.

#bangtanarmynet #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenarios #taehyung fluff #bts au #bts au fic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #my fic

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porkchop-ao3 · 6 years ago

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Park Chinois: PART 2/3

Part One - Part Three

The second part to I.C and reader’s date! SFW.

The singer, a woman dressed all in red, stepped down off the stage with mic in hand. She strutted down the middle of the room where the table layout created a sort of aisle for her, glancing from patron to patron as she went. Every now and then she'd sing a few lines to one of the tables before spinning around on her way to the next one. When she paused at our table she flashed us both a wink, then she was off. It was quite captivating really, being so involved in her performance. Rick and I watched her, completely entranced. Eventually though, she made her way back to the stage where she was joined by a pair of dancers.

“This wasn't at all what I expected, this is fun!” I told Rick, and he seemed pleased with my reaction.

“I had no idea about this either. It-it's certainly a surprise.” He snorted, though he didn't seem at all displeased by the way the night was turning out.

Our appetizers arrived shortly after that, carried over with grandiosity by the waiter and placed in front of each of us with a beaming smile and well wishes to enjoy our meal. I looked down at the plate in front of me and quickly realised just how stark the food to plate ratio was. Little portions of crab were elegantly stacked in the middle with a drizzle of chilli sauce and a few sprigs of some green stuff. It looked beautiful, but two mouthfuls and the whole thing would be gone. A glance at Rick's plate told me his was the same. On his plate sat a beautifully presented, yet singular dumpling. His face said it all.

“What's this shit?” He snorted.

“Oh, but it's just the appetizer, you wouldn't want anything huge…” I trailed off.

“Yeah but-” he jabbed his fork into his dumpling and held it up. His plate was pretty much empty already. I snorted, and quickly covered my mouth and flashed him an apologetic look. He couldn't help but become amused too, the edges of his mouth lifting despite his attempts at keeping a straight face. “Jesus.” He sighed, shaking his head.

Without further complaint, he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth in one go. I blinked in surprise, watching him chew the entire contents of his plate. He made a pleasant humming sound and shrugged.

“Tastes alright.” He admitted.

“Well, at least there's that.” I laughed, picking up my knife and fork and cutting myself a small piece of crab, I intended to make mine go a little further than his. It was tasty, and I was sure to savour each bite, no matter how few there were. Rick was back to picking at the bread (which the waiter thankfully left for us), though that was dwindling too.

“Do you want the last piece?” He asked me, nodding towards the remaining slice of sourdough.

“You can have it. I don't want you starving to death, sweetie.” I teased. He rolled his eyes playfully and dipped the bread into some unidentifiable chutney, by the look on his face when he bit into it, he wasn't a fan. He finished the bread without any condiments.

Unsurprisingly it didn't take me long to finish my appetizer, and I couldn't help but wish there was at least a little more of it.

“How was yours? I'm sorry I didn't ask before you finished, I blinked while you were eating it.” He said. Some of Tailor's sarcasm seemed to be rubbing off on him and I snorted.

“It was delicious, thank you. Just enough to whet my appetite, and that's all an appetizer needs to be.” I gave him a grateful smile and sipped my orange juice for the first time that evening. “Holy shit.” I exclaimed, suddenly feeling glad for the loud music, which helped to stifle my curse.

“What?” He asked me, his face dropping, clearly thinking something was wrong.

“This orange juice is incredible, it's the best I've ever tasted. Have you had some?” I asked, taking another big sip. The flavour burst in my mouth like I'd just bitten into an actual orange. I didn't know what I was expecting from freshly squeezed orange juice, but it was clear I'd never actually had it before.

“Mm, yes, squeezed between the thighs of virgins.” He murmured haughtily, picking up his glass and swirling it's contents before taking a dainty sip, pinky out.

“I think you're getting it confused with Cuban cigars.” I laughed harder than I should've and he simply grinned at me. The waiter stopped by our table, noting the empty plates. They were really on it with the service in this place, that was for sure.

“Are you both finished with your appetizers?” He asked us, and Rick and I nodded. “Let me get those plates out of the way for you, did you enjoy your dishes?” He smiled, lifting the empty plates away one by one.

“Yes thank you.” I beamed.

“Absolutely, nothing like a nice, light bite to really make you work up an appetite.” Rick said with a smirk, and I resisted the urge to shake my head at him.

“Well I'm very pleased you enjoyed it! Your next course will be with you shortly, and I hope you're even happier with those.” He smiled widely at us both before adding. “Is there anything I can do for you both in the meantime?”

“No, we're good thank you.” The two of us agreed, and with a nod, the waiter left us.

The singer on stage was no longer singing, she had joined the two dancers in a routine, while the band continued to play instrumental music. Some of the dancers would occasionally step down off the stage and do part of the routine in the aisle, again bringing us into the performance.

“Do you think you'd come here again?” Rick asked me out of the blue, and I thought for a while as I looked at him.

“It's a little early to tell, we haven't had our main meals yet. But if you're trying to find out if I'm having a good time, I am.” I assured him.

“I'm glad. I'm just curious about h-how you're finding living the high life. Like, if this is the kind of thing we should do more often.” He murmured, resting his head on his fist as he watched the dancers.

“If you want my honest thoughts? This is nice and all, but I don't necessarily think we need to do this often. I like our dates, I like exploring new places and chatting with the owners of those small family run restaurants and feeling at home there. I like how sometimes we go to a place and the food is terrible, but it doesn't matter because it was dirt cheap and we can have a laugh about it later. But mostly I just like going to those places with you.” I watched a smile appear on his face as I continued, though he didn't look at me. “I said to Tailor earlier; you could've taken me to McDonald's tonight and I'd have been content cause what's important is we're celebrating together. The fact that you went to all this effort and wanted so badly to give me this experience is a huge bonus.” I explained, still waiting for him to look at me though I could always tell when he was listening carefully because he'd absentmindedly run the tip of his tongue back and forth across his bottom lip.

After a while, he finally turned to look me in the eye. He wordlessly leaned forward, lifting up off his seat just a little, so he could kiss my lips. The kiss was delicate, light, but full of tenderness and it made me forget everything but him. I couldn't care less that this perhaps wasn't the proper place for public displays of affection. I couldn't care less that people might be staring. Let them look! All I cared about was him. And when he finally broke away and realised his tie had been dipping in his drink the entire time, with a chuckle I thought to myself; this is who I am meant to spend the rest of my life with.

As Rick tutted and patted his tie with a napkin he muttered; “This is why I don't wear these things.” sending me into a fit of girlish giggles.

Our main courses arrived very quickly, just like the waiter had said they would. As the plate was lowered down in front of me, I could've laughed until I cried. I frankly didn't know how I kept a straight face. Especially when Rick's was placed in front of him; his face was a blank canvas as he blinked down at his food.

If you'd told me that this was an appetizer, I would've believed you.

My sea bass consisted of a small fillet in the center of the dish, scattered with thin slices of kumquat (which I learned was some kind of orange) and sauce, a sprinkling of herbs. That was about it. I'd maybe get five mouthfuls out of the whole thing if I were to eat ordinary sized bites. Rick's stir fry was presented in a narrow line across his plate, each element neatly and perfectly placed, like every slice of vegetable or chunk of beef had been placed individually by hand. I couldn't deny that the thing was pretty, both dishes were attractive and appetizing, but considering the price, the quantity was a bit of a joke. The more I thought about it, the less surprised I was; posh restaurants typically served small portions, though they were meant to be delicious enough to make up for it. And that was what we were yet to find out.

We both thanked the waiter and he walked away, and as soon as he was out of earshot Rick said;

“Thi-this looks lovely, but… I'm not used to these tiny portions. I'm gonna be starving after this. I'd consider getting dessert but I don't know if I can handle being served a teaspoon of ice cream with a sprig of mint on top.” He just sounded astounded at this point, not even angry or upset.

“I know what you mean, baby, but let's just give it a try, hm?” I said softly, patting the back of his hand before picking up my knife and fork. I gathered a piece of fish along with some of the sauce and kumquat, and Rick tucked in too with a soft sigh. I popped the fish into my mouth, chewed once, twice, and immediately realised; I did not like kumquat. At least not with fish. I didn't let my face betray this though, I smiled as I chewed, nodding my head appreciatively.

“Yep. I don't like ginger with meat.” Rick just came out and said it after swallowing his first bite, his lip turned a little in a grimace. “Th-this is the problem with posh places, they all have weird shit in the food and I think it only tastes good if you've got rich taste buds.”

I accidentally snorted, covering my mouth as I continued to chew through my amusement.

“How's yours?”

“It's good!” I told him, it was almost true. The fish was delicious and cooked perfectly, it was just the sauce it was slathered in I had the issue with.

“Good?” He cocked his brow at me.

“Yeah.” I smiled.

“You don't like it, do you?” He deadpanned.

“I do like it. It's interesting, I've never had anything like this before.” I said, averting my eyes as I went in for another bite.

“It's interesting, huh? You mean gross?” He smirked.

“Rick.” I sighed, feeling my cheeks flush. “It's not terrible, okay? The sauce is just a little weird for my not rich taste buds.”

“I thought so.” He chuckled. “Look, baby, don't eat it if you don't want it. I won't be angry.”

“I want to eat it, it's honestly not that bad if I just scrape off most of the sauce.” I assured him, he laughed again, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Jesus Christ.” He said under his breath through his laughter. “Le-let's just eat up and we can go somewhere else.” He added, spearing some veg and meat and stuffing it into his mouth unceremoniously.

“We don't have to go anywhere else, you've spent enough money.” I shook my head, beginning to feel incredibly guilty.

“Money doesn't matter, don't worry about it, seriously. Th-this is just… let's call it an unsuccessful experiment. It's just a bit of fun in the end.” He shrugged his shoulders. I watched him for a moment and he really did seem unphased by it. He had a soft amused smile lingering on his face, which made me feel a bit better.

I continued eating, getting more and more used to the flavour as I went. By the last few bites I no longer found it all that unpleasant, but it wasn't something I'd ever have again. After finishing I felt pleasantly satisfied. I wasn't particularly full up; I was comfortable, but I knew it wouldn't be long before I was getting peckish.

I drank some more of my orange juice and soon realised how little you actually got. Though the glass was tall, it was incredibly narrow towards the bottom, meaning as soon as you drank what was in the flared out top, the rest of the glass was barely a mouthful. Wow. They can't even be generous with the orange juice? I couldn't help but think the place was a total rip off.

“The thing is, I can tell this is decent food. Someone would like it. It's just not for me, you know?” Rick said as he wrapped up his meal, swigging the last of his drink too.

“I agree. It's high quality, cooked beautifully. It's just not to my taste.” I shrugged.

“I'd prefer going out for a proper steak somewhere. Give me some chunky oven chips like every other restaurant in this country has and I'm happy.” He grinned.

“Trust me, you get bored of those chips very quickly.” I rolled my eyes. They were served with almost every dish in every English pub, it was like there was an abundance of chips and they were just trying to get rid of them.

“I doubt it. A little salt? A little vinegar?” He kissed the tips of his fingers. “And that's coming from a dessert fanatic. Speaking of, d-do you want dessert?”

“Honestly I didn't see anything that caught my fancy when I looked. If we're having pudding I'd rather have something from your truck.” I admitted, shrugging my shoulders a little. The look on his face was a mixture of flattered and proud.

“That can be arranged.” He nodded thoughtfully.

“Of course, if you'd like dessert here, don't let me stop you.” I held my hands up, knowing what a sweet tooth he had.

“Nah, I can almost guarantee my ice cream will be better.” He said without a hint of a joke. I cocked a brow and grinned.

“Ooo, look at you! I like it. Confidence.”

“Hey, I put heart and soul into my ice cream. I-I-I don't just mix up stuff with fancy names, expecting everyone to love it, which I assume is what they'd do here.” He glanced down at his empty plate as if to prove his point.

“Oh, I agree. Yours definitely would be better.”

“Are you both finished?” The waiter appeared out of nowhere again. When we both agreed, he continued. “Could I get you any desserts?”

“Ahh, no thank you. Couldn't possibly eat another bite.” Rick said, leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach. My face must've betrayed my amusement.

“Are you sure? I can bring you the menus again and give you some recommendations, see if I can't tempt you?” He said with a bucket full of charm.

“No, we're good. We'll just have the bill, thanks.” He reiterated, and the waiter nodded.

“I'll just get that for you, sir. How will you be paying?”

“Cash.”

The waiter nodded again and off he went. Rick pulled his wallet out of his inside suit pocket and opened it up. My eyes widened at the thick wad inside.

“Place your bets, baby, how much'll it be?” He grinned at me and I rolled my eyes.

“That's not a fun game, just don't tell me, okay?” I pleaded. He chuckled a little.

“I won't.”

The waiter brought over the bill inside a little leather bound book, he busied himself with checking up on the surrounding tables for a moment. I averted my eyes as Rick looked, and then filled it with the appropriate amount of cash.

“I have no fucking clue how much to tip.” He whispered to me.

“You're the American! I thought tipping was like… part of the culture.” I hissed back.

“Fuck it.” He sighed. Shoving an unknown (to me at least) amount of money into the booklet. He closed it and placed it down on the table and right on cue, the waiter turned back to us.

“Wonderful sir, I do hope everything was to your satisfaction.” He said, gathering up the check.

“Yeah it was all great.” Rick told him, already rising from his seat with a tight lipped smile. It wasn't as if he was trying to be convincing, but the waiter ate it up.

“I'm glad. We hope to see you again soon, enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Thank you.” I nodded at him and rose to my feet too. Rick held his hand out to me and I took it, he led me through the restaurant back to the entrance, where the bathrooms just happened to be located. He knew me well enough that he automatically waited outside the ladies room for me without me having to ask, I always needed the bathroom before leaving a restaurant and this time was no different. Except part of the reason I wanted to go this time was to check if they had fancy hand lotion in there. They did.

Getting back into the familiarity of Rick's ice cream truck felt like a bit of a relief. It wasn't as though I hadn't enjoyed the evening, I absolutely had, I just felt a little out of place in places like that. It was nice to be able to lean back and feel comfortable away from the prying eyes of well off diners and overly attentive waitstaff. I reached over and touched Rick's knee once he'd climbed in, and he looked over at me.

“Thank you for tonight. I really do appreciate all the effort you went to, and I had a lovely time.” I smiled at him, stroking up and down his thigh just a little. He caught my hand, interlacing our fingers so he could lift it up to kiss the back of it.

“I know it's not been perfect but I'm glad you got something out of it. And we aren't done yet. W-w-we're gonna go to that planet you like and we're gonna fill up on ice cream.” He told me, placing my hand back down on his knee so he could start up the truck.

“The planet with all the stars?” I smiled brightly at him.

“That's the one.”

Sitting up on the hood of Rick's truck, indulging in a wafer cone filled with chocolate and caramel ice cream, enjoying the view; was perhaps the highlight of the evening. It was just quiet and calm, the air was warm and the two of us were bathed in light from the sky. Oh, the sky! It was the reason this particular planet was my favourite Rick had ever brought me to. It was night time all the time here, but the sky was lit up with billions and billions of bright stars. I could see the colours of the galaxy we were in swirling and blanketing the whole sky; rich pinks and purples and reds… it was the most breathtaking thing I had ever seen and every time we came here, my words failed me.

Rick was leaning up against the grill of the truck next to me, I could feel him pressed up against the side of my leg and he was staring up at the sky too as he licked his own ice cream. Neither of us had spoken for a long time and that was okay, we could enjoy the easy silence between us. Well, almost silence. Critters could be heard all around us, similar to crickets in that there was a constant harmony of sound from all directions, but here it was a deep bassy hum that I found extremely relaxing.

I'd licked down to the cone of my ice cream, and I crunched through the wafer, disrupting the hum. Rick wasn't far behind me though, so I didn't feel like a noisy nuisance for long, and we soon finished our ice creams. After having some of Rick's delicious ice cream, I was feeling much more full up; it was the perfect end to the evening. Rick eventually turned around, stepping closer to me so he was standing with his tummy against my knees. He brushed his hand across his mouth to remove the residual crumbs from the wafer, and licked his lips.

“Do you want to go back yet?” He asked me; I was quick to shake my head. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders I bent down to kiss his forehead, my lips lingering for a few seconds.

“I want to stay here for a bit, if that's okay.” I whispered, and he nodded.

“Anything you want, baby. I like it here anyway.” He smiled up at me, leaning his hands on the hood of the truck either side of me.

I tilted his chin so I could join our lips, giving him short, sweet kisses until he chased me, keeping our mouths connected for longer. He tilted his head, opening his mouth, he tasted sweet and his tongue was still a little cool from the ice cream. I parted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, perfectly content to stay locked with him like this until I could no longer breathe.

Tbc...

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #my oc #ice cream rick #fanfcition

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ecotone99 · 5 years ago

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[MF] Though my body feels heavy...

Though my body feels heavy, I feel myself beginning to rouse. The lingering dance of images in my mind quickly evaporating. I shut my eyes even tighter. A desperate, yet poor attempt to avoid waking. Living is no longer the pleasure it once was. I flicker my eyes open to the darkness of the room. I close them again, willing for the dance of images to return, for my mind to plunge back into a world of dreams, a warm solace away from the harshness of my reality, but it won’t. I lay awake for a long time, in a mindless state of thinking and not thinking. An intense growling vibrates inside of me. “It’s time to get up,” I tell myself. “But what for?” I argue back.

Slowly, I reluctantly lift myself away from the comfort of my sheets. Streaks of sunlight were now softly penetrating through the bedroom window.

A sudden violent thrash breaks through the silence.

I am jolted to my feet. “What was that!?” I panicked, as I hurriedly make my way towards the source of the noise.

I rush to the kitchen where I find one of the chairs had fallen sideways on the floor, and Tommy, the youngest of my three children, sprawled next to it.

“I’m okay!” he declared, jumping up quickly at the sight of me with a look of shock on my face. He raised his arms up and down in a slight twirl to show that he wasn’t hurt.

“I’m really hungry and was looking for food,” he explained with slumped shoulders. He kept his head down as though trying to avoid my gaze. “The fridge and the pantry are empty and so I tried to see if there was anything in any of the cupboards. I lost my balance and the chair fell. Sorry if I woke you.”

“That’s okay, honey. I was already awake.” I said while smoothing his hair and wiping the sleep off his eyes.

I couldn’t blame him, I thought. It had been four days since we last had anything to eat.

I knew that the cupboards Tommy had tried to reach were empty. We didn’t have any more food in the house. Not even a lick of butter. I pretended to search inside anyway.

Tommy watched eagerly, salivating at the thought of something to eat. The rumbling in his stomach growing louder.

I force out a cough; squirming slightly to suppress mine from rumbling back in response.

“Here, why don’t you have a tall glass of water and go back to sleep. Mommy will have food on the table for you and your brothers tonight.”

Though he did so obediently, I witnessed the light in his eyes dim and his shoulders fall to a droop. After all, it was a routine he knew all too well.

Drink more water. Go to sleep. There was little else I could do to help them stave off the pains. I said it to them so often that it became an almost biblical chant they knew to recite.

It aches me to see my children suffering in this way. It aches me even more knowing I had lied. Seeing the anguish in their eyes is enough to drive any parent mad. The hunger has been ever-present; gnawing at each of us from dusk to dawn. It’s a slow pain. A type of locked suffering, eating away at your insides, leaving you feeling hopeless and empty.

I look out the window, peering through the yard, my eyes fixated on a soft patch of dirt on the ground.

Our situation wasn’t always this desperate. Sure, money has constantly been extremely tight, barely having enough to keep everyone fed, but at least things were easier when my husband James was alive.

I gaze longingly at the dirt patch, still fresh, and slightly damp from the morning dew.

James wasn’t a very skilled hunter by any means, but he did his best, managing well enough to put food on the table. Enough to tide us over for a few days at a time. He was a robust and kind man. With a strongly passionate love for his family. The type of deep love that would have a man do anything, including sacrificing an arm and a leg, for the sake of his children.

I could feel my eyes welling up.

One day, he slowly grew sick. We couldn’t afford to bring him to the hospital. There wasn’t much else we could do, but stay by his bedside as he became increasingly weak.

Tears were now flowing steadily down my face.

The children and I were okay for a short while, living off a diet of kumquats from a small tree we had growing in the backyard. Eventually, it had been picked so much that the tree no longer bore any fruit.

A pang of hunger clamoured through my insides. I continued to stare obsessively at the dirt patch, as though hoping to see someone rise from underneath.

It was six days ago that James had passed. The wound in our hearts still fresh from the loss. I wished desperately that he was with me. He wouldn’t just sit around while his children starved. He would have known what to do. He really would have done anything for them…, I shuddered as the thought began to form in my mind.

“The kids wouldn’t even know,” I reasoned with myself. I walked over to the closet and reached hesitantly for the shovel.

“For the sake of our children,” I continued on, thinking about what James would have been willing to sacrifice. I could now feel my bones shaking as it became clear what I needed to do.

Taking a deep breath, I trudged outside, the shovel tucked tightly beneath my arm. I walked, dazingly, never shifting my gaze away from the plot of dirt.

Feeling more resolute, I pressed the cold metal firmly between my fingers and sank it down, deep into the earth, as mightily as I could. With each strike I knew I was coming closer to what once was, my sweet James.

I block the imagery out of my mind. Drifting all focus away and allowing myself to be lost in reverie.

My senses begin to blur, numb to the pain of all physical and emotional affliction. I continued to dig profusely.

Hours pass and the sun has begun to set. Yet my mind remains in a barren state of disarray. All sensations subdued. I continued on.

It isn’t until later that evening when I feel as though I’ve hurtled myself into a brick wall. Overpowered by a sudden flood of emotions, I jerk back into reality, as I call out

“Children, dinner is ready!”

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reddirtramblings · 6 years ago

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At night when I can’t sleep, I engage in a bit of garden dreaming. Instead of counting sheep, I wander through the everlasting garden in my mind. While meandering, I push away thoughts of garden work because just the images of all I need to do in spring might keep me up all night.

This is about joy, not work.

One of the places I often go is down the main walk of the garden where I sit for a while in the purple chairs.

[bctt tweet=”As J.M. Barrie wrote in A Window in Thrums, God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December. ” username=”reddirtramblin”]

The two beds facing the street in the middle of summer.

When I close my eyes, I see my garden as it was last spring, summer, and fall. The seasons are fluid and usually feature whichever part of the garden is at its best at any given time. There are no limitations of time and space in my mental garden.

[bctt tweet=”The garden of my mind is perfection. It is a foretaste of heaven.” username=”reddirtramblin”]

The garden of my mind is perfection. It is a foretaste of heaven. Bees, hoverflies, and butterflies flit from flower-to-flower gathering pollen and nectar.

One of my honey bees flying to ‘Wendy’s Wish’ salvia, one of my favorite plants.

I envision the golden tummies of my honey bees filled with nectar, and I trust they are well. Flowers unfurl their petals to welcome their beloved with scent and color. I may stop to smell a rose or run my hands through the tall ornamental grasses as I walk. Wherever my mind leads me, that’s where I go.

Rosa ‘The Poet’s Wife’ has no blackspot in my dream garden. She always looks just like this.

Birds sing in the trees. No one is eating anyone else. Not even the praying mantises. No caterpillars are being devoured by birds or wasps. In the garden of my mind, all is well, and no one needs to eat anyone else to survive. Not logical, you say? Perhaps, but this isn’t reality. It’s better.

Benary’s Giant Wine zinnia with a honey bee.

Bordered Patch butterfly, Chlosyne lacinia

Male Monarch butterfly on ‘Bluebird’ aster.

There are times when the garden I visit is in its winter state, receptive for longer days and moisture from the heavens, but most of the time, it’s spring, summer or fall. I like those seasons best so that’s when I visit.

Grasses and other plants in my garden midsummer of 2013. It looks similar now, but the chairs are painted purple. I could no longer find French blue paint.

New border and older garage border.

Calamagrostis x acutiflora ‘Overdam,’ one of the most beautiful and mature grasses in the garden.

All is harmonious in the garden of my mind.

Paths, back garden and she shed.

If it’s spring, I see daffodils, tulips, and my favorite blue plant, Phlox divaricata ‘Blue Moon.’ In the garden of my mind, there are no voles to eat tulips, no moles to tunnel beneath and upend plants. There is no disease or drought. Instead, the garden of my mind is a cacophony of color. Flowers, grasses and leaves dance and play in the breeze, and the sun is warm on my back as I bend to examine a flower or insect more closely.

After all, I have all the time in the world, and there are no weeds in the garden of my mind.

Phlox divaricata given to me by Wanda Faller years ago.

Phlox divaricata with variegated Solomon’s seal.

Tulips in the garden not eaten by anything.

Double daffodils from John Scheepers bulbs.

Pink and white daffodils have a salmon-hued cup, but in my mind, they are the perfect pink of catalog photographs.

It is supposed to take the average person twenty minutes to fall asleep, and in that time, I can wander quite far. I usually start on the back deck, walking down the steps and opening the gate. My tennis shoes hit the gravel paths crunching beneath my feet. I then turn and look left to the three-tiered borders. Usually, the roses are blooming. Most of my David Austin roses are here, including ‘Darcey Bussell,’ ‘Graham Thomas,’ ‘The Lady Gardener’ and ‘Olivia Rose Austin.’ among others.

Containers on the deck surrounding the chairs.

The tiered borders looking from below on the path.

I have ‘Darcey Bussell’ planted next to Mary in the tiered beds.

Rosa ‘Olivia Rose Austin,’ another newer David Austin rose in my garden.

‘Graham Thomas’ is a strong yellow English rose.

Apricot mystery rose with ‘Niobe’ clematis. What a sweet dichotomy I planted here. Occasionally, a plan works as you want it.

After I stroll the back garden paths, stopping to gaze at my favorite Japanese maple, ‘Tamukeyama,’ I turn left, walk past my little she shed and then climb the hill to the potager where tomatoes are neatly staked, ripened peppers hang on stems in bunches, and beans climb a trellis with basil and lavender planted beneath.

AAS winner ‘Mad Hatter’ pepper is one of my favorites to grow.

Red Racer tomato produces a lot of fruit on a very small plant. It does get some disease, but it hasn’t overwhelmed the plant yet.

‘Valentine’ tomato is a heavy producer of grape tomatoes. It is Indeterminate so make sure you stake it well.

Basil, especially one with red or purple foliage is great in bouquets too. Photo courtesy of Chronicle Books.

Basil and chard I saw planted for fall in an AZ garden.

All this vegetable bounty makes me hungry so I spend a moment or two planning meals around everything ready and waiting. You see, in the garden of my mind, there are no specific seasons or limitations. I just go to that part of the garden I love most in the particular season I love best.

The potager surrounds the red fountain which is the focal point of my vegetable garden.

The potager in July a couple of years ago. This is one of the photos that looks so Mediterranean.

I really like the plant combinations around the red fountain this year. Pineapple sage, ‘Dallas Red’ lantana, ‘Pink Crystals’ ruby grass and ‘Victoria Blue’ salvia (returned from last year.)

Start small with raised beds or containers.

‘Little Fingers’ eggplant in my garden. They were very, very small.

Even with slight flea beetle damage, this eggplant blossom still glows

I love tomatoes, eggplant, peppers, green beans and basil so I visit the potager in its summer months. However, it’s the perfect temperature. Just right for vegetables to ripen, but not sweltering so that I’m begging for water and shade. My greenhouse sits just beyond the potager, so when I choose to visit it, it’s winter.

I cleaned the inside of the greenhouse and grouped the plants by color and type for easier transplanting outside in late April.

Potager planted and cedar mulch for the gardens.

The sweet peas and coleus are growing nicely in the greenhouse.

The greenhouse and cold frames on a cool morning. Notice the condensation on the windows. Everything is nice and warm.

‘Republic of Texas’ orange tree that grows in the greenhouse over winter. The oranges are very good.

Snow is gently falling on the roof, and I look up to see the snowflakes as they fall. The kumquats are ripe, and I pluck one off and chew it tasting first the tang of the fruit and then the sweetness of the peel. I have Meyer lemons and oranges too, but they aren’t yet ripe. Both ripen later than the kumquats and while I can be in any season, my mind seems to acknowledge that everything has its season so all is harmonic and peaceful.

Muhlenbergia capillaris ‘Lenca’ Regal Mist, pink muhly grass with Salvia leucantha, Mexican bush sage.

Maddie posing in front of the street bed. The pink grass is muhly grass.

Pink muhly grass with coleus and Mexican bush sage in 2016. The clumps have just gotten bigger.

Pink muhly grass is starting to show its fall colors.

If I’m still not sleepy and want to wander, even more, I may go out to the bed that faces the street and check out the pink muhly grass. My faithful and beloved dog, Maddie, is there. I’ll then go walk over to the cutting garden beds and see if the zinnias are still going strong.

I always grow several varieties of sunflowers in the cutting garden. I look forward to them each year.

‘Strawberry Blonde’ sunflower.

Here, they bloom with the sunflowers and other annuals to give the pollinators more to eat while also gracing my table with flowers. I may take scissors in hand and cut a bouquet. Suddenly, I’m back inside arranging the flowers. If I see a flower spider, I’ll gently blow it back outside on another flower. I do this in my real life too. I don’t usually kill insects unless I must. Although, in the garden of my mind, no one eats anyone else, we know that birds, snakes, lizards, and other insects must eat to survive. Over the years, I’ve learned to let everything exist pretty much in balance unless something gets way out of hand. Then, I do occasionally intercede.

Usually, by this time, I’ve drifted off to sleep where I may continue to stroll grateful to God that I have a garden in which to go. I’ve spent the last eleven years on this blog, and years before in articles and in garden talks, teaching people how to garden.

If I could give you one gift, it would be this.

One day, I may no longer have the strength to toil in the dirt, but I will still have the garden in my mind.

Please remember, gardening isn’t only about the practical things like when to sow, plant, water, and harvest. It’s also about the garden that resides in our souls, in our dreams. As you drift off to sleep, try thinking of these.

In the garden of my mind At night when I can't sleep, I engage in a bit of garden dreaming. Instead of counting sheep, I wander through the everlasting garden in my mind.

#Garden Dreaming #Garden in my mind #Mental garden

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