Author's Notes:

The poetic style of this chapter we owe to my friend, ZB.

This is an original fairy tale idea, which nevertheless follows the same pattern as all my previous ones. I hope it is enjoyable... in a weird, demented way, of course.


Garden pots.

Sprouting children.

Tending mother.

Tipping a pail of water over her seedlings.

Silver scissors gleaming.

Little green children cooing.

Human mother soothing them to sleep.

Water ever feeding.

Scissors ever cutting.

"Mother, why do you cut us down?" a newborn sprout asked.

"Darling, do you love your mommy?" replied the woman as she snipped.

"Of course!"

"We all love you!"

She smiled warmly. "I love you all, too. And do you want me to live with you forever?"

"Yes, mommy!"

"Then, I must cut each of you… and brew a tea… to let me live another day," she sung.

Her scissors promptly clipped the youngling at the base of its stem.

"...and mother surely appreciates your gift of life." She beamed greedily while holding the lifeless plant-child in her muddy hands.