Intoximication
I was so damned tired. It had been a long day. Week. Month. ..months
One of those warm days that come out of nowhere in November, the sun beaming off the snow into my eyes and heating up the day in a way most un-Novemberlike.
I tossed my jacket over the handle of a shovel, and continued pulling at the dark purple berry covered stalks that twined their way through the fence. It was that, and the other greenery in the back yard that had prompted the visit from the city, that had spurred this frantic mowing down of nature. It was either that, or a significant fine levied on my boyfriend, at a time he could ill afford it.
Hours had passed, and the back yard showed the efforts that had been made thus far to bring things up to code. All that remained for me to do was the fence, but I was tired, and just wanted to be finished.
From exhaustion, came inspiration.
The weed wacker.
Yes. Oh yes.
In theory, this was a good idea.
As I revved the little engine, and the leaves started to fly, I had not even a twinge of foreboding. Splattered berries soon covered me with a sickly vaguely sweetish juice. I wiped my face on my arm, as another gout of stickiness sprayed my face.
I leaned against the fence, pleased at being halfway but starting to feel unbelievably tired. As I stood up to stretch, my vision started to blur a bit around the edges, and I felt my heart surge a bit.
Huh.
That’s..odd
I walked towards the house, and the world canted sharply 10 degrees in alarming ways. My heart pounded in my chest, and waves of nausea threw me towards the wall.
I spat, and spat again, as my mouth flooded with sickly bile.
Straightening, I looked in the mirror at my face, and was taken with the large black pits that had taken the place of my eyes.
From this point on, I can only remember bits and flashes, of being terribly sick, of waves of dizziness and my chest tightening and having trouble breathing. The plant that I had so blithely massacred in the back yard was Atropa Belladonna-also known as Deadly Nightshade.
In retrospect, I probably should’ve sought medical attention. But I was insistent on “being fine” and convinced others that I truly was.
About labtechgoddess
Wow, wonderful twist. I didn't see this one coming at all. Great piece!
True story?
Either way, it was believable. Nice writing.
Will-
Thank you. My life tends to be full of these twists.
McKnight-
Sometimes, art really does imitate life, a little too sharply. Thanks for the kudos.
I love stories about these sinister deadly threats hiding in our suburban backyards. Sorry it happened to you, but the story is cool.
See, I knew I stayed away from the weed wacker for a reason. I'll have to bring this to my husband's attention. 😉
BB222-
Just wait until my rant about the dangers of celery. It's an eye opener!
lilkate98-
Face shield, possibly a rebreather.
this reminds me of the two times i've done dishes. both times i've gotten cut by a steak knife! damn dishes!!!
..and gauntlets. Don't forget the gauntlets.
Drunken weedwacking and nightshade? Nice. 🙂
Perhaps if I'd had alcohol in my system, it would've cushioned it somewhat. The intox was all the Atropa.
More "tox" then "intox" really.