Must. Water. Lawn.
Here is a wee story I wrote for a Flash Fiction Contest. It has to be less than 500 words and they give you 4-5 words you have to incorporate and sometimes a theme. These happen monthly, and they are a lot of fun.
Must. Water. Lawn, by Angela Douglas
I felt like I was floating. Putting one foot in front of the other, slowly, methodically, and lightly. I could see the grass blur past my bare feet, but could not feel the ground underneath them. I looked up briefly and became dizzy, so I quickly looked back down. Drifting, gliding, moving with a strange grace.
My speed slowed slightly when I reached the rocks at the top of the hill. Although they were small in size, I could feel each object jabbing into the arch of my foot. Why wasn’t I wearing shoes?
I needed to move the sprinklers around the yard. They were twisted, and tangled, and it was going to be a hot one tomorrow.
My sight was fuzzy and unclear. It was hard to focus on any one thing in front of me. My other senses were heightened. I heard every cricket, and smelled my sugary gardenias in the distance. I could feel blood seeping from a fresh wound on my foot. It was quite dark. I could hear someone calling my name. Or at least I thought I could.
“John! John! Jooooooohn!”
I turned to look in the direction of the voice, and I couldn’t make anything out at first. I blinked a few times and it looked like a silhouette of my wife eating a sandwich on our front porch, hollering at me with her mouth full. Now it looked like she was choking. I turned to move toward her but my legs were stuck and then I hit the ground.
Splash splash splash – the sprinkler was gushing into my face. I could see more clearly now, though it was still black outside. I looked up and my neighbour Frank (who I hate) stood above me with his hands on his hips. No wife, no sandwich, no choking. “What on earth are you doing here? It’s 3am. Care to elaborate?”
I looked around and noticed I was outside of his barn, quite a distance from my house. At three o’clock in the morning, stark naked, wrapped up in a band of sprinkler hoses. All I could muster was “Err….I suppose I was sleepwalking?”
He sounded angry, but looked amused. “Get back home before I call the cops! Or your wife.”
He returned to his home and left me lying there, in his yard in the middle of the night. I was wearing nothing but shame, face down with my bright white butt illuminated by the moon.