literature

Iris

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Literature Text

She stood outside the house, looking down at the flowerbed. The irises had just started to show well this morning when she had gone to work. Now, they were trampled, crushed and in some places, possibly chewed. Suppressing a sigh and the emotions that generated it, she went back to her apartment over the garage.

She knew who was responsible for the damage this time, but she could not stir up even anger against the mutt, or his human companion. Her roommate’s crazy dog was mad for flowers, and he had not dug them up, just rolled in them.

Enthusiastically.

For a good long time.

No harm done to the root system, but no blooms this year. Again.

Her roommate would apologize, and help her set the flowerbed to rights, but three springs without iris for three separate reasons was still more than coincidence in her mind.

She wondered again as she climbed the stairs, why she did not take the hint from the powers that be to move on, find another spot to settle. The fact that it came to her in the desk sergeant’s voice told her why, immediately.

She was too stubborn to give in before she received the call to serve from another city. This inhospitable piece of lake shore had not called to her, but when a friend had asked for help, she answered.

Home was not even where it used to be, just as she was not the person she had been.
A snippet of another person who has not offered a formal introduction, so I can't even tell you who or exactly where she is, save that she knows of the weird of the world.
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