In the morning, after putting down a saucer of milk for his kitties, the farmer closed his front door and walked into the lane. There he saw a little girl, playing in the dirt.
“Little girl,” he said. “What are you doing here?” But she didn’t say. She looked so sad and bored that the farmer gave her a pebble from his pocket and said, “Here — plant this magic seed and see what grows.”
That night, when he got home, he was treated to a remarkable sight. Where the little girl had planted the pebble a tree had grown, but not a normal tree — it was short and gnarled, and its branches were bare. Still, the farmer was amazed.
“Little girl,” he said. “How is this possible?” But she didn’t say. So the farmer went inside, shaking his head.
In the morning, after putting down a saucer of milk, he opened the front door and saw the same little girl as before, playing in the dirt.
“Here,” he said, handing her another pebble. “Plant this magic seed and see what grows.” He chuckled nervously to himself when he said it, but the girl just stared.
That night, when he got home, he was treated to another remarkable sight. Where the little girl had planted the second pebble a rose bush had grown, but the roses were all black as tar, with thorns that made the farmer’s eyes water.
“Little girl,” he said. “What sorcery is this?” But she didn’t say. So the farmer went inside and bolted the door. The kitties walked in circles around his ankles as he parted the curtains and peeked outside.
In the morning, the farmer ignored the little girl. When she reached out for him, he slapped her hand away. “No more pebbles!” he said. “Leave me alone!”
That night, when he got home, the little girl was sitting where he’d left her, surrounded by fresh mounds of dirt. The farmer walked inside, but immediately he noticed that things were missing — his cups, his books, even his pictures in their frames. He became frantic when he couldn’t find his kitties, not even one.
The farmer hurried outside. “What have you done?” he shouted at the little girl. But she just held up a finger to her lips.
“Shh,” she said. “I’m waiting to see what grows.”
This is a repository for JY's original content that's yet to be bound in a book -- essays, short fiction, etc. There's little rhyme or reason, so jump in!