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February 6, 2017 / philosophermouseofthehedge

If it had been a snake…

Once again they stomped out of the room knowing without looking that their superior was glaring at her through the one way glass.

She sat quite still.

Except there was that quiet little smile again.


Her interrogators clinched their jaws.

How was she managing it?

Having spent days in the concrete isolation cells.

Blind folded. Bound to a chair.

Without nourishment.

Yet she wouldn’t bend.

What kept her going?

Everything pointed to her. Being one of them.

Clinging to the past. Worse. Talking to others. Spreading nonsense.

“Not trying to recruit.  No, just chatting. Forestry stuff.”

Right. They ain’t no landscapers.

Mythological tree of Norse legends, Yggdrasil. (USPD.

Yggdrasil. (USPD.

Snort. Foolish women.

They should all be down on their knees that this wasn’t the Salem Witch hunt era.

All these skirts had to face was medication the rest of their lives. So they’d be normal like everyone else. Not delusional.

All but this one. What was sustaining her?

She knew they watched.

Watched every blink. Every heave of her chest.

Looking for weakness. Surrender.

In the quiet of their absence she slowly rebuilt the walls protecting her.

A slow betrayal of mind and body provokes a longing for those sepia toned days when life was still a mystery, before the weather and world affairs conspired repeatedly to wrench the senses. Only now, as memory fails, does the pain relent, a tender mercy.

“Always trust the trees,” her father told her. “They never lie.”

If only I could see some trees.” *

The scarred wooden chair supported her. Gently, but firmly, pressing against her spine. Encouraging.

Despite the splintering of life, the aged oak had a bit of power still engrained – saved for one last effort. For saving one last disciple.

The chair reached deep – forcing every golden, sun-warmed life force remaining deep within his grain into her skin and consciousness .

She must survive. His shattering would mean their survival.

The men behind the glass were startled as the chair, now bleached of color, collapsed in the oddest fashion like a camel carefully lowering to let a Queen disembark.

“Well, that’s that. Who sent that antique up here anyway?”one of the inquisitors grumbled. “Where’s the metal ones like in the other rooms?”

Suddenly a loud groan from the heavy wooden door as if the buckling chair jolted it.

The supervisor crossed over, shouldered the door, and attempted to shut it without complete success.

“Warped,” he grumbled. “just like that dame. Get her up and get her out of here. Tell her how lucky she is we’re letting her go and maybe she won’t sue us for splinters from that chair. Move.”

It was all the stubborn door could do to limit his anger to a low rumble.

Tree killers! The solid plank couldn’t abide the Anti-Naturals…Them and their worship of all things metal.

Wood have bitten them if he’d have been a snake…

But he was under cover and they depended on him to open things up.

Dark Oak tree against a glowing sunset. ALL rights reserved. Copyrighted. NO permissions granted

Against the wind. With the grain. Keeping watch.©

*A collaboration with Honie Briggs and her Dad. Words* used with permission from her 100 word fiction: “A Wallflower’s Window on the World“)

Thanks to Honie and her Dad who also taught her ” …if I give the world my very best I will get kicked in the teeth, but that I should do it anyway.”

Sometimes you do see the trees.

Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.



  1. pensitivity101 / Feb 6 2017 7:59 am

    A thoroughly enjoyable read.


  2. HonieBriggs / Feb 6 2017 8:23 am

    Superb supernatural! Gives a whole knew meaning to splinter groups. The collaboration is sublime serendipity. You have honored my father. You have given me a gift.


    • philosophermouseofthehedge / Feb 6 2017 8:27 am

      Cheers to both of us. Your dad’s phrase was so electric. (Our dads seem awfully similar- and wise) Thanks so much for your assist. Glad it worked and made you smile.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Ally Bean / Feb 6 2017 1:37 pm

    I always see the trees, often times missing the forest because of them. Perhaps they are the reason I learned to trust?


    • philosophermouseofthehedge / Feb 6 2017 2:20 pm

      It’s rough, but trees show how to stand tall. Thanks for going out on a limb with a comment


  4. Robin / Feb 7 2017 6:10 am

    I love this. I think I’ll go out and spend some time with the trees now. Might need them to rescue me someday. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  5. memoirsofahusk / Feb 9 2017 1:48 am

    Ah, Yggdrasil. I think we are living in the same world Phil. I’m hoping spring will make my view, now minus 4 trees, a bit better. Not long now.
    Lovely read.


    • philosophermouseofthehedge / Feb 13 2017 8:14 pm

      All of our trees are shedding last years leaves and are covered with pollen now (sneeze ) The crepe myrtles are starting to bud. With luck the new greenery will be safe from late frost. (Interesting bit about trees at the first of that SciTech video in the next post – what an important collection that university had and didn’t realize.)
      Hope some sun makes it your way. Thanks for carving up a comment for this table



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