Sarah Potter Writes

Pursued by the Muses of prose and poetry

Friday Fictioneers — Discarded Vegetable


You’ve agreed with each other, five years is long enough. Your voices  tunnel through my ears into my bruised brain.

The doctor says, “If by some miracle your mother regains consciousness, she’ll be a vegetable.”

What sort? A carrot, cabbage, or potato? Fried, roasted, half-baked, perhaps? Indeed, you’ve decided to uproot me from this life and cast me into the earth like a shriveled pod.

Foolish you, discussing your inheritances while standing at my bedside.

When you leave, I’m going to perform a double miracle and you won’t see me for the dust, my discarded  life-support tubes your constant reminder.


Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Prompt: image (c) Connie Gayer (Mrs Russell)

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28 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers — Discarded Vegetable

  1. Very clever, great POV, very well done.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Dear Sarah,

    This one delivered a sucker punch at the end. A good reminder that we never know what the comatose person hears and understands. Well done.



    Liked by 1 person

    • Dear Rochelle,
      I’m sure there are quite a few people out there who live to regret what they’ve said within earshot of someone who’s apparently “out of it”, whether comatose, cataleptic, or just plain old and ailing.
      I love that expression “sucker punch”. Just about sums it up!
      All best wishes


  3. Oh my! Great piece, Sarah. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Go girl! Loved it.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. That vegetable phrase is so odd isn’t it – thanks for reminding us. Very original piece. You just never know….
    Second person works well here. A great voice to this.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. There are always those ears that can hear… And yes why vegetable indeed, and discussing inheritance… Very interesting way to figuring out the POV gradually.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Despite these days of political correctness, it seems that the “vegetable” insult has slipped through the censorship channels. It’s as if to say that the severely brain-damaged are not being being accorded the same respect as others, or are no longer classified as sentient beings.


  7. This was absolutely brilliant, Sarah! I was reading thinking… the cads… well, they’ll get their comeuppance, won’t they?
    By the way… I keep telling my kids to not expect a penny from me… I’m planning on blowing it all before I leave this earth! 😛

    Liked by 1 person

    • Glad you liked it, Dale. By the way, I like your philosophy, gal:-) One of my jobs is singing at funerals. I pick up all the vibes there — the vultures gathering, some of whom only started showing an interest in the deceased in the final months. I’d hate to think that anyone was being nice to me, just for the sake of an inheritance (not that I’m rolling in it anyway, but even if I was).

      Liked by 1 person

      • I did indeed and thanks – I think kids have to learn to


      • Sorry…pressed send before I was finished!

        Kids should create their own fortune and not expect anything!
        I can well imagine you see (feel) all the vibes. Nothing like the expectation of inheriting to bring out all the vultures….

        Liked by 1 person

  8. so profound, what a great “wakeup” story, Sarah

    Liked by 1 person

  9. This was a powerful piece, Sarah. They say hearing is the last sense to go, which we always kept in mind when caring for our mother in her last days.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. This heartless bunch of relatives deserves what they (don’t) get. What a grea pov. I love it.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. I love this flash Sarah, you gave a wonderful twist at the end. That’ll show those scrounging relatives. I used to work in the probate department of a law firm and it never failed to amaze me how the smell of money changed people overnight. Sadly. xxxx

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Reblogged this on Gary Bonn and commented:
    Short and sweet…


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