February 5th, 2010 by Cy

Cylithria slowly walks two steps into her blog. Glancing down the un-updated page, she sighs and turns to leave.

“Hi Cylithria,” a voice calls softly.

Cylithria turns. Her eyes turn upwards, her lips curl into a fond, gentle smile. “Hi Little Plant of Hope.” she says before slowly walking across the dusty space that is her blog. Just below the tag line words, “call to duty…” She slows her stride. Slowly, carefully she lowers herself into the inky darkness of her blogs heading. Sitting beside the Little Plant of Hope firmly rooted in the right hand corner, Cylithria gently draws her knees to her chest, crosses her arms over her knees and lays her cheek down so she can look at the little plant.

“Long time no see,” the little plant remarks.

Cylithria smiles sadly. ”Yes, it has been a while – hasn’t it?” she whispers.

For a moment, Cylithria and the handheld Little Plant of Hope sit in silence. It’s an easy silence. The silence of long time friends who’ve been through a lot.

Cylithria stares at the tiny plant nestled in two gentle, cradling hands. Small sprinkles of dirt slip down and land upon Cylithria’s foot. Her smile broadens.

“You were moving slowly when you came in.”  The tiny plant says.

Cylithria nods. “Apparently I have a broken leg.”

“Apparently?”

Cylithria softly snorts, then nods. “Yep. or so they say. It was bugging me, for a few weeks. Doc had me brace it thinking it was knee trouble, but that didn’t really help. couple weeks ago, Doc had the local’s x-ray it…. was looking for possible torn from the bone tendons or something…. they called me this week…. apparently it is a hairline or stress fracture in my  tibia…. from here, to about here,” She explains as she draws an invisible line down the front of her right leg.

“No crutches or cast?” The tiny plant wonders aloud.

Cylithria sighs and rests her chin upon her forearms. “No, not yet. They don’t know what they wanna do. The consultants are consulting with the consultations… or something….” She shrugs.

“Let me guess,” the little plant says in a humorous voice; “You don’t know how you broke it, do you?”

Cylithria finally laughs. “Do I ever?”

Both old friends chuckle. Rarely does she know how she got hurt, pretty typical for Cylithria.

As the silence returns, the Little Plant of Hope gently watches his author friend. In a voice soft and supportive, The Little Plant prods her further. “It must hurt… is that why you’ve been so silent lately?”

Cylithria shakes her head no, then raises her head and nods it. “No…. I mean, yeah… it hurts at times….. nothing I can’t handle though…..but it’s not why I’ve been quiet.”

Cylithria sighs. Then shrugs.

“I know you have things you want to say…. you come here everyday and look. I see you.” The Little Plant offers. Cylithria smiles like a child whose been caught.

“I do come here everyday, and I probably do have things to say…but…..”  Cylithria glances down the page of her blog. Sadness fills her eyes.

“But?” her old friend presses. “Is it me? Are you tired of me?”

Cylithria snickers. “No….. it’s not you…. not at all.” She promises. Shifting slightly, she looks at the Little Plant and tries to explain. “I love my blog. I love blogging….. but lately……” She sighes. The sad streaks fill her eyes. ”I’ve always come here to purge my thoughts, or feelings…. or even my stories…. that’s why I’ve been here daily….. just because when able, I’ve always come here.”

“But when you’ve come before, you’ve written. Even if but to save it in draft, you’ve written. Lately you just come, look for a moment and leave. You haven’t written.” The Little Plant remarks.

Cylithria plops her chin back on her forearms. “I can’t write…. it will upset somebody.” She declares in defeat.

“Who?”

Cylithria shakes her head ever so slightly. “I don’t know who…..” she says in disgust. She looks bewildered, almost amazed as her voice softly streams across her blog. “Whoever wants to feel that my latest blog entry is about them…..” She shrugs. “I guess???”

The Little Plant pauses to consider what she’s said. It isn’t quite making sense to the tiny green friend, so he tries to clarify it. “If you don’t know who, how do you know they are feeling that way? I don’t understand Cylithria?”

Cylithria nods. “I know….. I never know who is going to be affected…. but lately, if i post anything remotely personal, about me, my feelings, my plans or lack thereof, someone who reads this blogs instantly thinks I am speaking somehow about THEM. Then they either comment or email…. all paranoid that I was talking about them. And if I don’t reply immediately, they email again, or text, OR CALL!!!”

Cylithria’s hands suddenly fly out before her knees. She becomes animated. “It’s like all of a sudden, if i say I spoke to someone today who was a prick…. everyone I know starts wondering if I mean THEY are the prick…… even if I didn’t speak to them today!!! It’s fucking……” her hands drop down to her knees and instantly the animated woman becomes lethargic once more. “It’s just…..so….crazy.” She says just as she lies her cheek upon her crossed forearms.

The Little Plant was a bit shocked. “People actually contact you about a blog post, thinking perhaps you were speaking of them?” he asks.

“YES!!!!” Cylithria yelps as she looks at her old friend. “Can you believe that? Isn’t that crazy? And every time it happens, I stare like this,” Cylithria’s eyes grow wide and her mouth drops down to her knees for a moment. “And I think….. REALLY??? REALLY??”

The Little Plant watches as she once more throws frustrated hands into the air. Rolling her eyes, she begins shaking her head slowly, negatively. “Why write jackdoodlyshit if every Tom, Dick, and Harry is going to email, call, text, or message me, suddenly paranoid I am blogging part of their life????”

If the Little Plant had lips, he’d have been smiling. Sometimes his author friend is so funny, in an over-dramatic sort of way. Instead, The Little Plant watches as Cylithria settles back into a restful position.

“What does @TheWocket say?” The Little Plant asks quietly.

Cylithria shrugs. “He says I should just blog what I want.” She pauses. “Of course he isn’t running around trying to ‘figure me out’ either…..” Another shrug. Another would have been smile.

Deciding it was time to slightly shift gears, The Little Plant pauses long enough for Cylithria’s posture to once again relax. “How is @TheWocket doing?”

Cylithria smiles. “He’s…..okay….”

“You say that with some reticence in your voice. Is he okay?” The Little Plant pushes.

Cylithria still wears a smile, albeit a tiny one. “He is okay….. there is a lot going on….. and it’s been crazy….but he is okay.”

“You don’t speak about him much here, unless you are speaking of all your Kansas City friends. Why is that?”

Cylithria’s sad smile returns. “Honestly?” She asks her Little Plant friend. “Because I am tired of the talk, the suppositions, the rumors, the whole,” She flips and wiggles her fingers around in the air; “whooooooooo that goes on about @TheWocket and I.”

The Little Plant watches her closely. “The whooooo?” he asks, mimicking her tone of voice as she’d said it. Cylithria nods.

“Oh yeah, the whooo!” she declares firmly. Her eyes roll and she shakes her head. “I can’t explain it, I just know I keep getting hit with some version of stuff with regards to @TheWocket and everytime I do I am like……….. eh?”

“Stuff?”

“Yeah, like reccently I was told how I am running his life!” Cylithria blurts out.

“You are?” The Little Plant repeated.

Cylithria nodded while bearing a disgusted look. “Yep, apparently…. because you know the man has no brain of his own….. he can’t possibly take care of himself or his business without me…. dontcha know….. I mean…..” Cylithria snorts. More eye rolling.

“Why do people do that?” She looked over at her Little Plant of Hope and took a deep breath. “Why do people assume that because I am around, the person in question must have fallen under my evil ploys allowing me to run their life?”

“Perhaps because you are strong?” The Little Plant of Hope offered.

“And @TheWocket isn’t?” She countered angrily.

The Little Plant stared down her angry glare. “Yes, he is. What I meant to say is, perhaps because your support of those you care for is strong…thus they feel you are the catalyst for someone’s decisions?”

“Well, isn’t that what you are supposed to do…. strongly support someone you love?”

“Yes, yes it is.” The Little Plant conceded.

Cylithria nodded. Slowly her hands rubbed at her right leg. “Well it burns my ass. I run his life, yada yada yada……as if anyone could run that man’s life anyway. SweetJavaJesus he is more stubborn then I am….. he just conceals it better!”

The Little Plant of Hope watched her. She shook her head, shook it again and then ran her fingers through her hair before finally settling down.

“I guess I don’t care what they think about me…. at all….. but the fact that they think he’d be so pussified as to let me or any other woman run his life…….. THAT pisses me off!” Cylithria glanced at the tiny plant and her eyes twinkled finally. “I hate it when people don’t give someone credit for their own being.”

“So you keep quiet about him, to protect him.” The Little Plant surmised.

“Yep.” Cylithria smiled. “I guess I do.”

The two friends sat in silence once more. As peace fluttered down upon them, Cylithria returned to her gazing position; her cheek resting on her forearms once more.

Suddenly her eyes lit up. “I’ve missed this place…. and I’ve missed you Little Plant of Hope……”

Sprinkles of dirt fell upon her toes. Cylithria’s smile widened. “I made a good choice when I chose you.” She confessed to her tiny plant friend.

“I’ve missed you too Cylithria. You should come by more often. Even if it’s just to chat with me.” The Little Plant of Hope offered quietly. “It’s too quiet around here without you.”

Cylithria laughed, loudly. “Uh…. that’s probably because I do the writing and you do the….uh……plant…..thing.”

The Little Plant of Hope didn’t move. It didn’t speak, and it didn’t even acknowledge her presence. All of a sudden, what moments before had been the spirit of a good friend, was now just a picture of a little plant, rooted firmly in the dirt held by cradling hands.

Cylithria blinked, and then blinked again.

“Oh Great!!!! Isn’t this just randy…” Cylithria uttered woefully as she slowly stood to her feet. Brushing the dust off her black pants, she looked around sheepishly. “Damn….. ain’t I glad no one spotted me talking to a plant picture……. they’d think me nuts… eh?”

Cylithria stared at the Little Plant of Hope. “Eh?…….Eh?….”

Glancing about once more, Cylithria shook her head, this time at herself. “I’ve lost my rabbitass mind!” She muttered as she slipped away, unnoticed by the blogging world.

Then, and only then; did one finger from one of the cradling hands move. “Ya want me to push the Publish button right boss????”

Sprinkles of dirt sifted to the empty floor beneath the hands as the Little Plant of Hope said only three words, “Why Not – Right?”

@cylithria, life, Little Plant of Hope, Why Not - Right?