We brought the blackberry seedling to the cabin as an innocent, wrapped in damp newspaper. Once planted, it grew unchecked – blindly prying through the knot holes in the walls and sending furious tendrils creeping up between the floorboards. It hugged the chimney and looped over the roof like showy Christmas decorations. Soon it was always night inside the cabin whilst the blackberry tapped its thorns at the window.
The last day of August came; we rose early to sweep the floor and put away our summer things for another year. But whilst we had slept the blackberry had knitted its fingers together across the cabin door, locking us in, preserving us for winter.
This piece of writing was for the 100 word (or so) prompt for Madison Woods’ #Fridayfictioneers. I’d be very happy to receive comments and constructive feedback.
I like your description of the blackberry seedling as innocent in your first sentence, how it grows unchecked and the unfortunate outcome on the last day of August.
You personified the blackberry and related its ‘upbringing’ to its character.
Good job!
http://logo-ligi.com/2012/06/28/w-m-d/
Thanks for the words of encouragement. Glad you enjoyed reading it.
I always knew there was a reason I wasn’t a fan of berries. You’ve painted the scene beautifully.
My attempt: http://adamickes.wordpress.com/2012/06/29/berry-tester/
Hi Adam, despite writing about them like this, I still love them. Thanks for having a read.
I love the dark nature of this story and the irony of the berry bush preserving them for winter rather than the other way around. Very interesting! Thanks for joining us 🙂
Thanks Madison. Nice to meet such a great group of writers reading each other’s work.
Spooky, spooky plant and OH, I just now recall that’s what happens when we transplant stuff out it’s environment! The rabbits that destroyed Australia, or the Nutria overtaking the rivers in the southern U.S. So you gave me creepiness AND a lesson in ecology. 🙂
That is exactly what I was thinking. You plant something, or import an animal that you think will be completely benign, but it takes over and the impact is often felt by the people that put it there in the first place.
Wow! How did you get out? Mine’s on the list.
I’m not sure they did! I’ll go and take a read of yours. Thanks
Love it! I especially like the chilling last line, “preserving us for winter”. My family has a blackberry farm, and you have exactly captured the way the vines take over and invade every available space. Wonderful job!
Thanks. Blackberries feature a lot in the novel I’m writing – I might contact you to check my descriptions, if that would be ok with you?