The Vine.


Uh oh! The old lady in the balcony next door was watching her again. But she will keep on doing what she had to. She didn’t have much time. The Ant Gods won’t be too happy if she is late. She picked up all the jasmine flowers that the vine above her gate had dropped that day and collected them in her frock. Laying them down in a heap, she began detaching their petals. This done, she carefully peeled the thin green stalks off the white filaments. This was the trickiest part. The Ant Gods never liked the filaments and she made sure she did the job their way. She placed the anthers on a leaf and laid it out in one corner. With a quick glance up at the sky, to make sure that she wasn’t short of time, she gathered the petals and stalks and stuffed some into the hole below the latch of the big gate. With a thud, she let the latch fall and crush the petals and stalks. This done, she took out the crushed leaves and petals and laid them on another leaf beside the first one.

Picking up both the leaves she settled them near the anthill. The Ant Gods will feed on them as they please. Her job was done.

Bringing her hands close to her nose she drew in the sweet smell of jasmine. With her eyes closed and cheeks as pink as roses, she looked like a little angel. The old woman in the balcony couldn’t resist calling out to her, “What’s your name?”

Startled, she looked her way and in a small voice replied, “Meena.”

“Why do you do that everyday?”

“Do what?” she asked innocently.

“Crush the flowers and lay them on a leaf?”

She drew her brows together and thought for a second. Old people are so naive, she thought. They never understand. “It’s a sacrifice, for the Ant Gods. So that they are happy and let the jasmine vine grow in peace.”

The old woman chuckled, “So basically, you saved the day?”

Meena smiled. “Yes I did. I do that everyday. By the way, can I come see you sometimes?”

The old lady shrugged her shoulders and said with a toothless smile, “Anytime you like. I do need some one to save my day as well.”

©2012. Habiba Danyal
220px-Jasminum_officinale

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Turning a childhood pretend game, into a story for Trifecta Week 54. As this is a Community judged challenge, I’ll be needing some votes on this one. Voting will start Friday night. To vote simply click here.This week’s word is:

CRUSH (transitive verb)

1a : to squeeze or force by pressure so as to alter or destroy structure <crush grapes>
b : to squeeze together into a mass
2   : hug, embrace
3   : to reduce to particles by pounding or grinding <crush rock>
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32 thoughts on “The Vine.

  1. I like her earnest logic in appeasing the Ant Gods, and especially the old lady’s reaction to it (although I — probably incorrectly — sensed a little menace in the interaction at the end, but then again my stories usually turn dark so I’m sure it’s just me haha). Nice work!

  2. This is an interesting childhood game! (: I love the story you made to go along with it. There’s a hint of magic in it, haha

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