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Embryo by Jen the Ice Girl. Posted January It would rather be here than there. The old people have already abandoned their chairs, they lie on their backs on air beds, holding hands looking up at the sky. Like a plastic bottle caught in crowds of weed my greenhouse bobs half beneath the surface.
Intrigued by the plight of a bumble bee, fish peer in, their mouths trace the journey of a spider on the glass. I have popped into the greenhouse for a breath of air and watch the salt dry in streaks on my skin. A pack of seeds fly loose, and I wonder when is the planting season now?
Pinching out the tomato shoots I pop them in some compost. I must ask the garden centre if they will deliver some fresh water. Yet the rumours persisted despite staff dismissals on grounds of impertinence. Psychic investigator Hercury Spread researched the case thoroughly. They are always of a common hen, seen only from the rear. The owners of the establishment know nothing of a hen in their family history — indeed, common poultry is deemed too lower class to be eaten at the Hall.
Which left me looking into local legends and enquiring at neighbouring farms and places of antiquity. Spread could discover nothing, but still the hauntings persisted. Lady Dumpritchard became frantic.
Every time I see it, it has grown a smidgeon more Where will it end? Finally, Hercury Spread admitted defeat. All I can surmise is that the apparition is the product of some futuristic scientific process. No wonder the thing keeps growing. But now the exorcism can begin. Here the family reconsidered their position and opened the haunted aisle to the paying hordes.