A dragonfly led me there. At first the dragonfly had taken to a flit–oh quite a graceful flit–a slender and silver one, akin to gossamer and to moonbeams, so that when he had circumnavigated me a band or two, and had then flung about my neck the willowy thread of a lasso, I hardly felt challenged or in any way disturbed. Just so I arrived, having been towed by way of a cottony strand, grasped in the mouth of a celery green, transparent dragonfly.
As soon as I saw the place, I knew it was occupied, for there was an earthy scent of being, and faint wafts of conversation pitched through the languid afternoon air, although I could see no one. The dragonfly released the lasso from around my neck and invited me to stay.
“Stay for the party,” he said.
I’m not at all sure how I knew it was a boy dragonfly with whom I was having a conversation, but I considered that, perhaps, it was the tenor of his voice…or was it simply his way or the style of his hair? Something was familiar about the dragonfly, and although I don’t have a personal acquaintance with too many bugs, I felt somehow…what was it?…somehow I had seen this particular dragonfly before. Hmm…I scoured my memory bank delving into wingy compartments and lady bug places and squirrel and mice hidey-holes and such, and stories I had read and stories I had told…and then… I remembered–I had met him on Linda’s blog. She had taken his photograph posed against tree bark, and although (according to Linda) it’s not one of his better images, I knew it would serve to help you visualize him, so I communicated with Linda and have his picture here.
I guess I had been rudely staring while I was considering the origination of my acquaintance with him, for now he sort of arrogantly shook his little wings and said again, “Stay for the party.”
“What party?”
“The Thanksgiving party, the dinner, of course.”
On the spot I accepted and barely had I breathed forth the words when I felt myself drifting to the ground……..
My perspective changed so that when I was through slinking down, my line of vision was at mushroom level and plainly I could see the brown ridges of its underside. To be sure of myself I reached up and brushed my hand across the surface, and yes, those was the fine netted lines of a mushroom cap. I couldn’t feel that I was smaller—felt just the same as always—and I’m not even sure I was smaller, except that I was now sitting beneath a mushroom. So, wouldn’t I have to be smaller?
Now arose sounds of increased activity. A clarity of vision gave my eyes unique focusing power and I saw that extending beyond the mushroom where I sat on the damp earth were many mushrooms and other sproutings. These served as a roof over the civilization with which I was now a part. The light was splendid, soft and white, throwing elegant shadows and I felt around for my camera but I didn’t seem to have it with me. Rats! I wanted to show you how it looks beneath a mushroom field.
There, more sounds of activity, then I saw what they were up to. They were bringing in the chairs—those sling-back classic kind, but these were tiny. Think tiny, I mean. I’m not real good with measurements but I’d guess they were two or three inches high, and now the workers had placed several of them in a row—seven or eight, I think. The workers left. The perfectly aligned chairs were empty except for the one nearest me, for immediately on its being set up, Dragonfly had flopped into that one and had taken on the lounging position of raised arms with hand clasped behind the head. He turned his beautiful head my way and smiled.
Chairs courtesy of Free Images
(Since I didn’t have my camera and I don’t have Photoshop, wouldn’t it be nice if someone who is reading this could “Photoshop” the dragonfly and drag him into one of these chairs. Don’t be too rough on him, but it might serve him right for throwing a lasso around my unsuspecting neck, even though he was gentle and didn’t really alarm me. Let me know and I’ll send you my email address if you don’t already have it. ) 🙂
After a minute of smiling at me, the dragonfly turned back around, stared into the distance for a while, then as his smile faded he took on a conspiratorial style and addressed me again. “It’s the atheists.” Head supported by his long, supple arms, he spoke to me from the corner of his mouth. “The atheists, you understand. We’re having problems with them.”
“Atheists?” My face must have taken on a look of incredulity, for certainly that is how I felt, and I heard the skepticism in my voice as I repeated. “Atheists? You’re having problems with an atheist?” I didn’t say it aloud, but I thought this is one egotistical dragonfly—trying to impress me by talking of human concerns. What could a dragonfly know of atheists?
To be continued as I learn what happened…
26 replies on “Fiction”
I was wondering if you wrote about the Runaway bus on here, I’d like to read the story again
LikeLike
Hi Tammy. It’s in my book Book Tales.
LikeLike
Ok ty 😉
LikeLike
Shirley,
Is that an ad on the side of your blog for “A Thousand Pieces?” It doesn’t look like it, but wondering how you’re linked to that. I haven’t been to your site in a while so I’m out of the loop and maybe forgetting something about the relation to you. Forgive me, if that’s the case.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sister Buxton:
I wish I had that kind of inagination. I have always been a realist.
i see Nathaniel is getting an imagination too. Is he taking after you?
Brother Webb
LikeLike
Ms. Buxton, I see you have visited Mojave C J. Please let me know how I can speak with you as I am very worried about someone that may unfortunately be there.
LikeLike
This is cute!!! I was tellin my pastor’s wife, Sis. Abbott, that I had found your website and had been communicating with you. She wanted me to ask you if there was any way you send me or post a copy of an article you wrote about God stopping the church van with his hands. I told her I would ask!
Thank you and God Bless!
Mary
maryfranceswriting.blogspot.com
LikeLike
Hi Shirley. I’m voting for McCain now. 🙂 (Notice I put this under fiction) 🙂
Helen, I knew you would come around. Someone of your intellect and high moral stance could hardly do otherwise. 🙂
LikeLike
Did anyone find out where Mr. Tumnus went? Was he kidnapped?
LikeLike
Nathaniel thinks the box is right above the mushroom. I think perhaps the mushroom has been plucked, sauteed and eaten along with someones dinner.
LikeLike
it is write above the mushroom to the far left.
LikeLike
Help me here, Nathaniel. I don’t see a box.
LikeLike
Yes I do see that light! But what is that box looking thing to the left of the lighted
mushroom? Could it be the clover?
LikeLike
Well, hell0 there, sweet Nathaniel. Wow, do I appreciate your helping us out with this mystery here. Someone must take hold of the situation.
There is a good chance that mushroom 3 is the one to the far right of the picture among the cluster of 3 mushrooms. Hold it! No, I rather believe it is situated in the other clump of three–to the left–near the middle. That certain mushroom is lighted…I’m thinking it is an inward light, beaming from a source under the earth.
Check it out and let me know what you think.
Granny
LikeLike
hmm i wonder which one is mushroom 3?
LikeLike
There is an unmistakable look and endearing aroma that only clover brings. Again you must look near and about the mushrooms. Perhaps in the shadow of the mushroom 3?
LikeLike
Bek, looks like you worked through the error message.
I think you may be right about the clover near the 3 mushrooms. There may be clues there. Is that clover, though?
LikeLike
Still no word, still tightlipped. It appears he may wish to communicate with you only.
This may be of some help though; There is an ordered mound of clover leaves placed near the mushroon 3.
LikeLike
Alright, Bek, but I don’t know how much longer the people are willing to wait to know what happened. Let me know as soon as you find out.
LikeLike
Still working on it; It is quite complicated. Mr.
Tumnus is tight lipped and closed minded . An exsaperating combination I can assure you.
LikeLike
uhmm…seems like the whole thing has been chucked. I never did find out what happened? Why?
Hey, Bek. Do you know the ending? If you do, tell me, and we’ll work it out. Great idea, huh?
LikeLike
…now wait a minute, I know him. His name is Mr. Tumnus . Last we spoke he was quite upset and thinking about chucking the whole thing. Chucking the whole “thing”? Why?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hmmm…no, you must read carefully. I am merely sitting beneath a mushroom…. I have not slid down a hole.
You don’t have Photoshop, do you?
LikeLike
Hmmm… have you been talking to Alice? Have you slid down a gapping hole?
LikeLike
Hmmm…we’re thinking
LikeLike
Interesting, Sister Buxton. I look forward to your next installment.
LikeLike