Woods engulfed by cow parsley
Roadside verges too
Conjoined at the hip, the Siamese twins Jane and Susan reached adolescence and argued about everything, from clothes to boys.
Aged nineteen, Jane fell in love with Christopher, a gardener, who relished nature in all its diversity. He told her, “I dig you, too.”
Susan complained that Christopher smelled of manure and grass cuttings, fining him £10 every time his hands strayed over her body’s side of the boundary.
When it came to the diamond cluster engagement ring — a family heirloom — Susan charged him rent for use of the left-hand Jane didn’t have, threatening to sell the ring if he defaulted.
Often my mind returns to those fields where we lay gazing at the sky, sharing our dreams. Why couldn’t you have stayed with me and lived the simple life, tilling the soil, living in harmony with nature?
Instead, you became a scientist employed at a Government research facility, where you invented a device to regulate abnormal cell growth in the human body and cure all forms of cancer.
Terrorists modified the device for war but neither side won.
Us survivors live underground, unable to endure sunlight upon our mutated forms. We live off worms and dream of a time machine.
‘That boy of yours is a regular faucet. Tell him to man himself up.’
‘He’s your boy, too.’
‘No, he’s a cry baby. He can’t be mine.’
‘Are you accusing me of having slept around?’
‘Just shut him up, will you?’
‘I asked you a question.’
‘Be a good girl. Make me a cup of tea.’
‘You’re so much your father’s son.’
‘I just want some quiet.’
‘And a repressed son, who keeps his emotions under wrap.’
‘A thirty-year-old crying over Disney movies?’
‘Sensitivity is good.’
‘Not if you drown in your own tears.’
‘Sadly, your tap jammed years ago.’
Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo Prompt: image © Madison Woods