“The Plum Orphan of Death Fish Bulleted” by Shannon Patenoude
The forest was a collection of plum trees and conifers intertwined in a chaotic mix of vines and
rotting leaves which feed the viciously carnivorous insects that inhabited it. Don’t get me
wrong, there were other things that lived in the place that encroached this part of the city.
Take, for example, deep within was a cabin where I once spent a summer: It is a mossy place of
wood and rusting steel, riveted and nailed together in a colorful mix of lichen and dirt inviting
graffiti and bullet holes.
Since that summer, so many things have changed; but I digress.
It was the summer I was orphaned, known to no one and yet everyone knew what I was. So, I
hid: I hid in the cabin away from prying eyes – you know, those high-minded types who thought
to hyphenate childhoods with obedience.
While in the woods, I hunted and forged and dug for sustenance. I even fished in the lazy creek
that lined the edge of my pretty cacophony. It was my only water source. Sure, there was an
occasional dead fish rotting on its shores – but I would cover myself with their scent then bury
them as was my habit: they were a product of more rank than order.
That summer: they found me…how? I cannot say: I lived so quietly and so unorchestrated.
They came stomping and sluggish, complaining loudly of the drudgery they found me in. I
refused to leave: I fought; scratched and bit them. I would not give myself over easily. I would
not give any of it over at all. They kicked and filled me with their venom. It was no small matter
for me, yet I left before they could crush me.
I visit the cabin often now: there where they riddled me with an imposing fate.
It is now a place tainted by my mirth and my whim. I’m still there, if you know where to look.
Look closely: my bones lie just beneath a dirt floor, occasionally used to sharpen the teeth of
other forest children.
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Shannon Patenoude Artist Statement: This very short story was written with word prompts. I’m not typically a creative writer in the fictional sense: my forum has been poetry. Shannon L Lambert (nee Patenoude) is an Rambler living in Broncos’ territory. My day job is as an accounting creative (because numbers tell their own stories).
