What to do with an Uninvited Guest - Flash Fiction

What to do with an Uninvited Guest by Christina Chapman

Artwork by Tara Cumella

“This idiot’s going to get himself killed,” she thought to herself. “But they don’t want to hear it from me.” Talia rolled her eyes and let a soft pink flower float up into her mouth. These intruders had no understanding of the gravity and foliage of this place, no understanding of her or life here. Sure, flying around in zero G was fun, even Talia occasionally indulged, but crashing to the ground from that height would be objectively painful.

Oh well. She had shit to get done. Fuck them, she hadn’t invited them to her domain. Talia

turned her back to the intruders – their mess of equipment disgusted her. Talia took each step with

caution, sensing the changing air. She planted roots with her feet, sowing her own flowers with each

step.

The idiot had bounced his way up a cliff and leapt off of it so he could soar in the air. Gravity

returned and he fell hard. He would have been better off if he’d gone up the mountain, because at least then he would have died instantly.

Talia felt the impact of his fall through the roots she had planted there last week. His spine gave way with a satisfying snap which would have paralyzed him, but was survivable. At least, it would have been survivable if he hadn’t landed on a piece of equipment that punctured his suit and drew blood.

          The unpicked flowers budded with anticipation, the blood calling to them. They grew, young at

first, springing up along the roots Talia had laid down. It would be too late by the time the intruders

noticed them. It was always this way – first the flowers were ignored, then remarked upon as pretty,

then interesting, and then the screaming would begin and wouldn’t end until all of the intruders had

died.

Talia made her way home and rolled a stone over the entryway to help muffle the sound. She

only had a few seconds before the screaming started in earnest and she needed to bake bread for

tonight’s dinner.

She plucked two soft mushrooms from her arm and stuffed them into her ears to help mask the noise. The second intruder was screaming now and Talia was more than a little annoyed by his

disruption of her quiet home. Talia went about her business, crushing flowers and mixing them together before pouring them into her bread pan.

She sensed the coming change and laid out toots so she wouldn’t float away, anchoring herself

to the ground. The screaming stopped and her old roots returned to her, almost slithering their way

across her home until they settled, birthing bright red flowers on her kitchen floor.

“My warnings might be more effective if I let them see or hear me,” she thought to herself. “Oh well. I didn’t invite them anyway.”