Another Plantlet

Little Metty won the drawing competition in school. It was a big thing, winning.

She was now famous in the school. She won a apple plantlet, apt for the green

world theme everyone drew pictures about.The plantlet planted in a little pot,

with her name on it.Mud, thickly filled and holding the plantlet upright and

silently promising to be with it forever.

She brought it to her home, proudly holding it for everyone to see. She took it

to her room and kept it near the window, as her mother told her. The apple
plantlet will get it's share of sunshine in it's days.

Two days on, Metty cared for the plantlet, checking it like a hen on the chicks.
Watering it and asking it when the next branch is sprouting. The third day, to her 

grimace, she spotted little odd brown spots on the little leaves. She grabbed
the pot and ran to her mother. Her mother turned from the cooking pot and took
a look at what her daughter was holding. With disinterest, she said, "Honey, It's
the blight. We better throw it away."

Little Metty didn't wait even a moment there or asked about blight, as her mother
thought she would. Metty ran to get the dictionary and quickly turned pages to the
B section.

Saddened with the new knowledge about a plant infection, she sat on the floor with
the open dictionary. There was a picture of her plantlet in the dictionary. Just how it
looked like in real.

Her elder brother, watching her, pointed out. "Blithe Little kids, this is what happens to
anything that's given to them". She lifted her head up and called him a bourgeois. He
made a bovine face, and walked away wondering what "bo͝orˈZHwä" meant.

She took the pot and went to her father. The dictionary still left opened on the floor.
The man of the house was a bureaucrat. And he took no time in making statements
about how impossible that a plant get infected in the bucolic place they lived. 

And offered help with  disposing the plantlet.

Metty with her blank face, went back to her room, leaving the pot somewhere
on the way.

In there, she took out a white sheet and her colours. And started drawing.  

Old man and the pig

The village was there to honor him. The wiser of the young came to the birthday celebration, hoping
to see him, who has outlived almost all of them famous they knew in the village.To see him speak in public.
 The other youths were jolted out of their bed, and forced to come, by their mothers.
Mothers thought that their kids life will change for the better, if the young got a mentor like him. It was
only now, that the nonagenarian agreed for a public appearance like this. For the Village folks raised on
the old scripts, he was the next best thing to god.
The comestible prepared for the evening was nothing less than grand. And when it was time
for the ceremonies, even the village heads were astonished at the magnitude of the gathering. And as moments
passed, and as the wise nonagenarian made it to the podium, the gathering egress-ed out of the dining
area rushing to get a spot next to podium.
While people where settling in their places, the nonagenarian just kept on smiling at them.
The wiser of the young mentally noted that smile and told themselves that's how even they
will do it, when they get to the podium, one day.
The man on the podium started speaking slowly:
" This gathering here makes my heart melt in gratitude, If standing here infront you and receiving your love
and affection is the prize for my long 90 years of life, I don't regret any moment that has been past me.
I had a lot of very bad times, but if there is such a prize like this at the end, like the love of his people, i say,
you shoud go meet head on with the bad times."
By then he was starting to pant, he took a moment and finished his speech: " Now we have had such a wonderful
filling dinner, let me go and make my swine a grand swill today." "I think he will enjoy it today". Slowly he walked down
the podium and on to his pig farm.
After a few moments of impasse, one young man was heard asking an elder. " Was he trying to teach us something?" .

The one with grinning imp

The vodka and fondue made the imp's mind hop with scabrous thoughts. It was the party of the 'spirits', and they  came together for the All-Hallows-evening. The imp looked around and was wondering any of the spirits waddling around where reading his mind. A horny imp was a taboo, specially with the holy tag given to the party. He ate a morsel of meat, dipping it in the fondue. He looked into his mind and saw that it was a mush. He felt his whole body was mushed. He didn't find himself fond of what the vodka made his mind look like. He tried to remember which of the spirits told him about vodka; vodka that will make him behave less mischievous for the evening. The imp knew he need an Orthopedic for the joints and spine of his body and mind. He looked around. Saw the ONE he was looking for at the far end of the table. The ONE who could cure all. But to add a grin to the imp's face, the ONE looked lost as ever sipping from the drum of fondant. 
And the grin was there forever.

The concise case of Reeds family

The reeds were a big family, living in the shallow waters. They were thankful for all the turd the water brought to them. There was the tallest of them, Mr. Reeds, tugging his mustache, thinking long about the future of his family. He was worried about the young reed dallying with the Dahlia. He was happy about the little reed growing up to a perfect aquiline form. But then again he was distressed to see the thickets thronging the area. He wanted to stop their growth. He wondered if throwing imprecations at them would shunt their growth. But then, he was a family man. He looked at Mrs. Reed, coddling with little little reeds. He noted in his mind to have a meeting with the thickets and the decide borders. The cantankerous old Read was wilting beside him. Mr. Reed thought of the huge responsibilities he had ahead of him.
   What was i thinking when i started this story about the family of Reeds?. Where will i take it now?.
   Haha .. guess i'll have to summon a character wearing a gauze veil and wielding a sickle.  That. ;)

Dream

The little man was having his beach time. He had been thinking about the faraway beach and a lonely evening here, just to count the waves. He looked up. The sky was perfect with billowing clouds. He waded through the wild weeds on the edge of the sand. He felt a spurt of joy, when he thought of, how far away he is from friends. Their banter always grated him. Just when he thought he was alone there, he saw an eunuch walking towards him. He croaked a curse and walked to the waves, hoping, the eunuch hasn't seen him. He was always not seen by others. This one is scrawny, he thought. The rivulets made by the retrieving waves were also scrawny. But in a moment, with a shudder he realised, the eunuch is coming straight to him. Suddenly he was half delirious. He saw a boat approaching him. He was writhing, for some sensation he felt. He saw that the boat was a Trimaran, with a tattered flag on it's stern. The sailor was pattering something to him. The scrawny eunuch was almost in a sprint now. The little man tightened his sash around his hip and ran to the waves.
He was sure he made it to the Trimaran, when he woke up to the alarm bell, just then.

Mountain.

The man looked up the escarpment. The valley had already tired him. But he refused to take his eyes off the peak. He took a flint in his hand and tried to figure out, if the scatological scent came from the stone. The scent had been smothering him, making him much less willing to breath. He thought of the designs and the frays of the eider-down on his bed. He thought of surviving the pervasive abominable scent while the climb up. He thought about a delicious little morsel of meat. Then he identified his enemy and obliterated it. 
He started climbing.