The Strangest Taste

maximilian42:

Marj stared at them, all round and wrinkly, purple and white.

“Rutabaga, 99 cents each” as she read the sign. She picked one up and held it in her hands, turning it over as she felt its rough texture on her fingers.

Without thinking, she placed one in her basket, continued on, checked out and headed home.

“Ew”, her son Mark said being of only 4.

“Mom that’s gross what is that?”, her daughter Molly complained being of only 12.

“It’s a rutabaga. There was a huge pile of them in the grocery store and I thought we’d try one.”

“What do they taste like? I’m guessing like cat barf”, Molly replied.

“I don’t know what they taste like. I’ve never known anyone that’s tried them, never seen anyone buy them. They’re always just sitting there in a pile with all the other vegetables”, Marj said.

Marj took the bowl of sliced rutabagas and spooned out several slices on to all three plates, slightly steaming and yellowish-white. They smelled like dirt.

“We’ll all try them together, at the same time”, Marj said.

They dipped their forks, raised them and stared at each other for a moment, like waiting at the end of a diving board. Unspoken, they all tasted at the same time.

Suddenly a great blinding light appeared by the stove in the kitchen. They shielded their eyes as the yellow blazing light crackled intensely then subsided.

A solid white portal door hung in the open space. Through the door, Marj could make out shifting shapes that slowly became more clear as she stood and moved closer.

“Molly come take a look and tell me what you see.“

Molly got up from her chair and walked slowly to the bright light. “I think I see people. Yes! They’re waving to us and it looks like they’re in a meadow of some kind.”

There were dozens of waving people on a rolling green hill, smiling and beckoning.

Marj walked over to Mark’s booster chair, unstrapped him and carried him over to the portal door.

“All together now” and they walked through. Cool sensations and light breezes flowed through them, if that’s possible, and they stepped out and down onto warm green grass.

The people were cheering, standing around in a circle and smiling. One stepped forward and said “You made it!”

There were kids running around and chasing each other. Someone walked up with two ponies on reins and handed them silently with a smile to Mark and Molly.

“Off you go!”

Marj turned away from the portal and walked with the crowd of adults up the hill, brilliant rainbows blazing overhead, the smell of cotton and fresh mint under every footstep, walking towards picnic tables by a gently flowing stream and a perfect summer day.

Reblog to delete 2016

(via infant-tyrone)

What day is it? It’s Saturday.

I’m at the cottage. It’s mid-afternoon and the place is quiet. Lots of napping and headphone listening going on.

Me? I’m here on the couch with the laptop on my lap. Legs stretched out, mind contracted.

Every time I think about writing or creating, I get tired. I wasn’t too tired 5 minutes ago while looking at pictures and reading others’ stories. But now the noise has stopped, the wheels no longer in motion, the silence settles in on my ears, and there is a pause, waiting for me to play.

Zzzzdnznzzzzzzz my mind says.

I wish I was dumber. Dumb enough to not recognize the pain that I’m in. Dumb enough to just sit and stare at the beautiful sky and colours on the carpet and birds freely living their lives on the other side of the glass.

Dumb enough to not see what’s going on inside.