Day by Day
Day #206: I saw a bug on the wall of my cell today. I named it Mercury, because it ran so fast. Can’t say I blame it. Haven’t seen it since.
Day #211: The moss is coming along nicely. I’ve broken it up and tried to get it growing in other parts of the room. The door-facing wall gets more light, really? I can’t tell, but the moss knows the difference. I’m becoming a moss master gardener. I could grow moss in any dank location.
Lichens are harder to empathize with.
Day #224: Scraped my fingers on the wall. I already knew that sharp rock was there. I’ve memorized every inch of this cell, and should have known better. I lost my focus because I got angry, having just dropped my bread on the floor. Must be more careful with my bread. Also need to be more cautious of sharp edges.
Day #225: Finger scrape might be infected. Washed wound, did the best I could with what I had. Spent all day not touching anything with it.
Day #226: Finger wound seems to have dried up. Swelling is down. Good, good.
Day #227: Scab peeled. I am fascinated. Can’t stop watching it heal.
Day #251: Moss has produced a single delicate white flower! Enamored. I sit by it all evening, until it closes up for the night. I watch it sleep. It’s like a friend.
Day #252: Flower fell off.
Day #301: Although I haven’t seen any more flowers, the moss is prolific. It’s cozy in here.
Day #343: I’ve started to get a feel for the lichens, successfully transferred bits of it here and there for decoration. They’re not so hard to understand. Strong, strong, but brittle. They can endure the most brutal environments, living off of virtually nothing. Grow age rings, like a clam. They don’t seem to be doing much, but after you’ve been in here long enough you get a feel for their rate of growth. They live too, but in slow motion. Slower than trees. They prefer stone because they have more in common with it.
Day #407: Been looking hard for flowers all this time, to no avail.
Day #389: The mosses have been shriveling up, except for the few strongest patches. I think it caught some kind of disease?
Day #478: All the moss is dead. Watching the lichens grow. Funny, how I used to think they were slow. They’re downright entertaining.
We are eerily adaptive to the state we find ourselves in. I guess the moss had enough of watching a healing finger and gave up the ghost. Glad the lichens are hanging tough. Watching chin hair grow is also fascinating.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Bahaha, chin hair is old news! I found a mutant whisker on my ANKLE the other day.
LikeLike
This was brilliant! I really enjoyed your writing here. I would love to read more of this. 🌻
LikeLiked by 1 person
Aww ❤ You liked the natural science element, didn't you!
People being in short supply, I've been spending a helluva lot of time with plants, lately…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think that’s a big part of it! C S Lewis said “We read to know we’re not alone.” Reading your words here was like following an account of the things I think to myself all the time when I am on my own. I liked it because it feels like I am not the only one who can think like this. Thank you for sharing your insightful words!
LikeLike
So your fertile mind took that patch of boredom and made it bloom in its imprisoned state. Most impressive.
I, too, think what you have here is begging for further elaboration.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Really? In what way? Does it sound like the beginning of a story, and you want to see where it goes, or does it raise too many circumstantial questions? Do people really want to read novellas about people watching moss grow???
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not if you put it that way! But the narrator sounds like s/he has some compelling stories to tell about how s/he got there, what else is in that brain, and what happens next…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I getcha. It raises curious questions. Hm… I accidentally wrote a hook! *files in brain*
Thank you!!
LikeLike
You’re welcome! Any time, truly. I find your work most intriguing.
And thanks for your visit and likes. I see you avoided my political pieces. That’s a strong sign of your excellent mental health.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sarah, Okay, I avoid Annie’s political pieces, but do I get “a strong sign of excellent mental health?” Why Annie? Why don’t I get that kind of validation from you? *checking some of my posts* NEVERMIND! *sigh*
LikeLiked by 1 person
More like mental delicacy. Reading political posts drive me to instant insanity! Your ability to delve into that morass and pull out any kind of logic must be a sign of your excellent mental health 😀
LikeLike
Aha, Woman! You have outed yourself! I was unaware that you were avoiding my political pieces. Poor Sarah just returned from months of social isolation so severe that she didn’t mind that she was boring herself—and read three of my posts in a row. I felt in view of her obsession with moss and lichens, failure to read about el presidente or bill-barr was a wise move on her part. You have yet to read three of my posts in a row so you’ve earned no such plaudits.😜
In fact it’s probably MY mental health in masochistically writing the damn things that we should be questioning…
LikeLike
Annie, It’s not your writing…it’s just…politics! Bleh!!!!!! I love the other stuff you write about, though! Also, I don’t do politics with other people on their blogs either. Trust me, I hear about it enough from both sides of the aisle at home! Me, I just want everyone to get along and would it kill anyone to sing a verse or two of Kumbaya? Seriously. 🙂 Mona
LikeLike
Well, I do too (want to sing Kumbaya), but I have an uncomfortable blend of naïveté and grandiosity that makes me think I can help make that happen.(!?)
LikeLiked by 2 people
Then, Annie, you go, Woman! Mona
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love this!! And, hello there! Nice to *see you 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hello darling! Thank you for sticking around!! ❤
Still looking for pieces of my brain. Let me know if you find them… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person