TOUCH HUNGRY: CHAPTER THREE – SHORT STORY

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER ONE

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER TWO

At the end of the work day, Frankia came home to relax, but first, the plants need to be tended to, watered and touched. Plant care created such a sense of tranquility and oxygen production within her studio apartment. During her encounters as a plant mama, she would feel her mood lighten up while the connection and appreciation of nature heightens. Touching all the plants reminded her of how precious life is, daily.

As she observed each plant she realized something. The Sliver Leaf blades were taller, it was not a drastic change but subtle.All the plants seemed to have shrunk…perhaps. She wasn’t sure now, that in one night one plant grew or the others became smaller. Her instincts told her to measure the mysterious flora that she purchased and see if her suspicions were correct. Immediately, she picked up a sheet of white paper, a pencil and measuring tape to record the data. The tallest leaf blade was 16.4 inches long.

Then suddenly, her fingers grazed the Sliver Leaf and she was paralyzed, frozen in her retreat. Everything within her was still, her heartbeat escalated. She thought, “what is happening?” She could not tell how long she was standing perpetually in place. It felt as though she was under a spell, which made her as a stone statue. The light from the window, declined into dusk as she stood. After what seemed like an eternity, she could feel her body slowly relieved of this hold.

When her body was, once again, fully in her own control, a sense of panic filled her chest. Confusion flooded her thoughts: Was it the plant that caused this reaction? How could a plant do this? No, no I may have to go see a doctor, I may be sick. She thought. Denial, disbelief and rationalizing what happened during this incident made her slow her movements and gently lower herself to sit on her couch. She was exhausted but decided to move towards the bed within her studio space to lay down. Surprisingly, she was able to drift to sleep as soon as her head laid on her pillow. Deep slumber took her and she did not realize that this was part of the enchantment.

TO BE CONTINUED…

This original blog post was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her in January 2021 (C)

TOUCH HUNGRY: CHAPTER ONE – SHORT STORY

Frankia Krane collected the small shovel, potting soil and a terra cotta planter pot set from the garden supply shop. She took her time looking at all the indoor plants in the nursery. There was a vivid array of selections all about her and every time she passed a plant she wants that very one, then two steps ahead she would fall in love with another plant.

She finally came upon a plant that was very unique from the others. The leaves were similar to that of a snake plant or Dracaena Trifasciata. Snake plants usually have speckles of green and cream colors, naturally detailed in natural waves and ripples with long, tall blades for leaves that look as though they want to reach for the sky. The only difference is that the other plant bared leaves with a texture like that of a lizard or reptile, with splotches in spectrums of browns and greens, with varying tones commencing from the very tips of the leaf to where it connected to its roots, hidden in the rich dark brown soil. The tag on the pot read, Dracaena Valiveal, also known as the Sliver Leaf Plant.

As though the plant’s leaf was charmed, Frankia instantly became compelled to caress the Sliver plant’s leaves. The texture of the leaves instantly incited an emotional response from Frankia. While she stood there near the table, stroking the leaves of this two-foot tall plant, she did not care if anyone was watching her. Though not far in distance, the store clerk, an aged woman stood watching her as she smoothed and massaged the plant’s blossoms. A cooing sound escaped Frankia’s lips, and a calm and nurturing feeling washed over her mind and body. She was not consciously aware of herself in this moment. There was also a cautionary note below this plant’s name that read, “please do not touch.”

“Excuse me ma’am, can I help you” The older woman who was on staff at the garden shop offered.

“I was looking for a new houseplant…and I think I found the perfect one!” Frankia responded.

“Well,” said the employee, “This one is a new species, similar to the snake plant that its origins are from the Congo Basin.”

“Congo? You mean in Africa? Well…”

The clerk spoke abruptly. “Oh yes. They both have origins in that region of Africa but the Sliver Leaf grows specifically in Equatorial Guinea, deep in the rainforest…growing wild, but still very rare.”

Frankia only blinked, then her attention went back to the plant.

“Oh and please do not touch it. Just water occasionally and we have a specific liquid…serum that helps with its nourishment. If you would like to purchase it, I’m available to receive your payment.” The little old lady said then motioned towards the direction of the cash register. Frankia immediately picked up the plant pot and followed the little old lady to the front of the garden shop.

TO BE CONTINUED…😬

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER TWO

This original blog post was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her in January 2021 (C)

DREAMSCAPES: HEXED BY THE PAST (Short Story, Nightmare)

No matter how far into the future you run, you cannot escape your past. All that talk about leaving behind the past and starting anew makes no difference to the past, especially if the pasts still remembers you. Especially if the past is fucked up, alive and has vengence in its heart. Its coming for you.

This dream, actually, this nightmare begins in a two-story home. The home I llived in as a child. It was dark and dismal, natural since nothing really good happened in that house. It was a place of living nightmares at times. From time to time I can actually recall a memory that was light and lifted.. Often if I “dream” about this house it is often a nightmare. This time was as no other.

So, I kinda left my ex and his family behind some years back. Let us just say that I was very close to his mother and sister, and as time went by and I separated from their son and brother, our relationship was broken as well.

In this nightmare, my ex’s sister was performing a damning ritual against me. She was in my childhood home, willing malice into being and preparing it to seek me out. As she mixed a concoction on rats blood, petrified wood shavings, baby’s breath, a sizable portion of my kinky hair and castor oil to bind, she hummed a tune to herself. In this nightmare, I hovered in my astral body while she invoked this spell upon me. I was terrified, but at the same time understanding. Probably part of my guilt. As she mixed and ground the spells contents with her mortar and pestle, I felt myself let go of the guilt I felt from those past entanglements. For some reason, at first I thought the spell was to hex me, damn me for eternity, but instead it was one that freed me, healed me and sent me on my way to make a better future for myself in relationships that I have presently and for the future.

We remember dreams for a reason.

Thank you for reading about my dream I had this afternoon. I figure my dreams or nightmares make light to things I probably don’t want to reconcile within myself. I remember in order to bring light to some things I need to grow out of and consciously face.

This original blog post and short story was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her. April 2020 (C)

SHORT STORY: NOCTURNA TOUCH

The mundane ringing of the door alerted the store keeper, Travis, to the presence of another customer. It has been a long day, with few curious folks entering and exiting without purchases. Perhaps he may be lucky this time, so he perked up and offered salutations to them.

“Hi there, look around and let me know if you need assistance,” he uttered the same script as he did for anyone that crossed that threshold. At first he thought it was genuine, but time has made it habit.

“Okay,” they would usually reply. This time there was no response, just a nod of the head from a woman with wide almond eyes, heart-shaped face and black bangs with a ponytail. She had not looked at him, just nodded while she looked at the first product near the door. This made him curious, because it was the dildo section. It would be a lot to say that this was not the type of store most women would come to alone to peruse through sex toys and novelties. In his experience, most women would come with a man or other femailes. It wasn’t always the case. He looked from his booth, follwing her with his questioning eyes. Something about her…her stark ivory colored skin, in contrast to her obsidian hued hair brightedned up the room even in the dull lighting. The features of her face he analyzed, starting with her cheekbones, high and youthful. She carried herself in a way whereas she seemed older…but he was not sure. Observing her clothing, he noticed she wore all black, even her stockings, black fishnets. Finally she made her way to him after looking at the bedroom candies and handcuffs.

“So, what do you think,” this Aphrodite spoke to him for the first time. The lilt in her words offered that she may be foreign.

Travis mouth was caught open for a bit, being that he was taken by surprise and roused from his thoughts of her as she turned her attention on him. Unknowingly, she was the best thing he saw all day, probably all week at this business. Even as he closed his mouth, he had no words for her in that moment. Before he could blink, she was in the booth with him. She closed the door and now she was in his world walking toward him before he could think to refuse. To his surprise, she held his face before he could protest or even react, and kissed him so deeply, that every hair on his body rose electtrified around him. It scared him a little at first and then he became compliant, soft limbs except for one. His pants bulged and she welcomed him into both her hands, caressing. Taking in his hurried breaths, then low moans, he even almost closed his eyes because the escatasy was all encompassing. At this point he wanted to know more of these emotions, this higher vibe provided in her delicate hands, stroking and cuddling. Before he knew it, she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants through her power. Her will be done, the obsidian haired maven, alluringly licked the palm of her hand and massaged him as he was ripe and extended. Travis gasped then sighed as he felt the wetness against him. That feeling was everything and his head felt as though it was going to pop. The only thing that kept bringing him back to awareness was that he remembered that anyone can just walk in at any moment. That thought made him more eager, anticipating the next sensation, the waves of delight was out of this reality. While he knocked his head back as the electricity coursed through his back from her hand job, he gave into her wildness. In a swift movement, she was on her kneess and he looked down at her charcoal hair in that high ponytail and she grinned up at him at first, then burried her head in his lap.

“Why,” he spoke softly, “It…” He couldn’t finish his words only fell off a cliff as she performed this art. He closed his eyes and she sucked and wet his tender head, so he thrusted his hips as a response. The lights behind his eyes, they flickered and danced while he slipped into this mist she took him into. Instantly he thought of holding her ponytail to get a better hold of her pacing. Just as he thought so, he found that his hands made the movements as quick as his thoughts.

FROM THE AUTHOR: Just practicing my creative writing. Please use the comments section to give your thoughts, criticisms on this short story. I write on different genres and haven’t found my niche, yet. Thank you for reading!

This original blog post was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her. (c) 2020

SHORT STORY: SOMETHING ANCIENT

FROM THE AUTHOR: This is a true story, one of my own haunting experience. Practicing my creative writing skills. I have been writing for almost as long as I have been alive, and since I first learned to write a proper paragraph in elementary school. This I create today, comes from my reality but an alternate reality for some. Thank you for reading!

“Come, put on your nightgown. You should never be naked when you sleep.” Mammy whispered while she dressed me and tucked me under my favorite blanket. I never slept without my favorite blanket or pillow. Without my shield and dagger, which those items represented to me as such, I could not fight of the visitors.

“God don’t like nudity,” My mother whispered again, “It should be shame that is felt when you gaze upon your own body, stay covered.” She gently tucked me under the blanket and patted my tummy. “Let us say the lord’s prayer and then Psalm 23.” We both recited the lord’s prayer, chanting it in unison, my voice a pitch higher than her own. While we chanted to the Christian God, I was also saying another prayer in my mind to that same God. Please God, don’t make me be touched and talked to by anything while the night rose. Please keep me safe from harm. I squeezed my eyes tight until tears welled up in the corners of my little child’s eyes, but mammy had not seen the tears. I hid all my horrors, all by myself without anyone to help me, but God.

“Alright, when two or more are gathered, God hears our prayer.” Mammy believed that whole heartedly. I tried to believe it too, my childlike understanding still wished for good and fairytale like adventures, but the night rose to some things that were more…sinister. My mother got up from my bedside, approached my room door. Opened and closed the door behind her and I focused as much as I could on her footsteps leaving me behind, walkine down the hall to her own bedroom. I sighed, very loudly. Not because I was relieved or secure, but because I had to fight again.

Sleep came to creep up on me before I can brace myself for anything else. My mind was set on the task that will surely come, but my body was tired from all the games and playing I did all day. The night was different. Why must I be afraid of the night. What I have learned of night has made me afaid of it. Terrified, really. The window brought light in my room, a steady illumination. It should have been comforting, unfortunately, it was not. As sleep took me and I dreamt away, A lowly black mass began to collect itself near the wall beside my bed. Slowly accumulating, and as it did so the sound that came from this mass was of flesh tearing. Pushing itself forward from whereever it emerged, It began to form a head of the carcus of a bull and it wore the dark sludge that was it’s body as though it was a dress. The darkness of its sludge was darker than the darkest corner in the room, where light could not reach. This entity bore no human attributes, nothing about the thing was of this earth or reality. Mammy would call it a Jumbie. In caribbean culture a Jumbie is a monster or mischieveous spirit. It did not come from a dead person like ghosts. It is believed that jumbies can harm you.

While the Jumbie came to visit for a while, I slept undisturbed. After this horn adorned mass completed its materialization in this plane, it watched me as I slept. Though it had no eyes in that bull skull, it concentrated with intensity, on my small body under my shield, my blanket. To my horror, it was still there when I finally opened my eyes at the dead of night to look upon it. I was startled by this being, but have come accustomed to strange entities visiting me during the night. At first, I could not take my eyes off of it…this bull skull, which with its dark mass below it, seemed like it was floating on its own. In my life, at that time, I have never seen anything that I could describe was like it. I was so shaken with bewilderment, I threw my blanket over my head hoping that it would deter this thing from coming towards me. Perhaps it would leave, because my blanket shield would keep it at bay and it would vanish back to wherever it came. Out aloud, I chanted my secret prayer, over and over again. God would come protect me, that was the idea. How much more protection would I need to be free from this curse!

It still haunts me today. I am still here to tell the story.

This original blog post was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her. (c) 2020