The vine gave her the relief she desired


Doug Kreuger

Blue Garden Respite

An entire future held in the hands of a shriveling, crippling vine.


And when it died it fought

with battered hands.

It held her screaming deep within its skin,

folded between suffocating layers that wrapped around her throat to stifle her cries.

And it trembled and shook

with utter desolation

as it clung to the life hidden deep inside of her.

Because it needed her, wanted her, but there was no water left to be wrung out.


Once it stole hers, it used the desperation as a buttress for itself.

To be on its last leg, yet it wasn’t enough to prevent the inevitable end.

Because what she had inside of her wasn’t enough

to power even the smallest of lightbulbs.

That once electric, eccentric girl burnt out long ago,

and she could barely produce a faint flicker.

But in her final hour

she was filled with hollow, placeholding happiness;

enough to die without a frown on her face

as she watched the vine sink with defeat as it realized the trick she had played.

Disappointment was her revenge against this cruel creature,

and for the very last time, her plan was a striking success.


She faded into the pale, watercolor background,

and as she melted into the medley of dullness

she watched the vine thrash and lash out with the fight she once had within herself.

Finally, it swayed into a limp sag,

and she was content with the damage she had done in the matter of minutes.