• About
  • Home
  • Flash Fiction
  • Flash Poesy
  • Excerpt – The Child of Heaven
  • Excerpt – The Child of Passion
  • Excerpt – The Lost Child
  • Fellow Writers
  • Publications/Credits
  • Excerpt – Ripples on the Pond
  • One Million Project – Thriller Anthology
  • Contact
  • Home
  • Blog

sebnemsanders

~ ripples

sebnemsanders

Tag Archives: herbs

The End of the World

08 Monday May 2017

Posted by SebnemSanders in Flash Fiction, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

adventure, alternate universe, beliefs, children, circular, curiosity, experience, experiment, flat earth, herbs, moon, nature, patience, proof, questioning mind, rotation, round, sun, theories, time, universe

flat-earth-banner01-mod

 

 

A large gilt framed painting dominates one wall of the Mystical Plains School’s Assembly Hall. A scene of an idyllic valley, surrounded by a narrow body of water which cascades down a steep fall, sweeping the sailboats and people at its end into the deep void. Children watch the painting and wonder. Sometimes they dream of falling into the great beyond and disappearing, forever. 

Aloe fluttered  her long eyelashes and pursed her lips. “I want to see The End of the World.”

“Are you mad?” Basil said. “You’ll fall off the edge.”

“Why would I? Won’t you come with me to discover new herbs and prove the theory?”

Although Aloe and Basil were the same age, Basil, being a ten-year-old boy, was more naive than his female friend. “What theory?” He rolled his eyes.

“That the earth is flat, as grownups say in Mystical Plains. And as it’s shown in the painting.”

“It is flat, also the sky is flat.”

“How about proving it? We’ll stop when we come to the end.”

“Are you sure about this? We don’t know how far it is.”

Aloe twisted a long strand of her celadon mane around a finger and shrugged.

“Only one way to find out. Meet me here tomorrow at dawn. Bring a sandwich and some fruit. Also, your notebook and crayons. We can draw the herbs we find on the way and collect samples. What say you?”

“What do we say to our parents?”

“Say it’s a school project. It’s true.”

“Good idea.”

“Great!” Aloe planted a kiss on Basil’s cheek and scurried away, the skirts of her pale green dress swaying in the breeze.

Basil could never refuse her. She was the most beautiful and clever girl in the Plains. Proud to be her best friend, he always relented to her whims, and she had many.

At dawn, they set off on their journey. Aloe pulled the hood of her olive cape over her hair. Fizzy jade curls that escaped the grip of Basil’s wide-brimmed hat bounced on his cheeks in tune with his quick step.

As sunlight burned away the chill of the spring morning, green fields spread out forever in their view. Basil was good at drawing, Aloe with writing the descriptions and colouring. They stopped several times to examine new finds and added them to their scrapbook.

When the sun was high in the sky, they rested for lunch and shared the fruit. Aloe figured they’d been on their journey for six hours. They’d need another six to return to the village before dark. She shaded her eyes with her hand and perused the surroundings. Eternal green without an end, but The End of the World nowhere in sight. She looked towards the way they came. There was no sign of the village or any familiar sights, nor the trees they’d marked as they moved on.

Biting the apple in her hand, Aloe pondered. “We must head back now and find our path in daylight. I don’t think we’ll reach The End of the World today.”

She studied the fruit closely. “I have an idea. Let’s see if it will work. Look at this apple. It’s round. If you were a tiny insect on it,” she picked up an ant and placed it on one side of the apple, “you wouldn’t be able to see the other side, would you?”

“No,” Basil said, eager to hear the rest.

“But if you keep moving towards the other side, you’ll be there and see it. That’s why we can’t see the village or The End of the World from here. It’s beyond our view. If it were flat, we’d see it.”

“Are you saying it’s a false theory?”

“Yes, but we’ll have to prove it. Let’s go back the same way, and see how the view improves as we get closer.”

Re-tracing their steps, making note of the landmarks, they resumed their hunt for various herbs. Three hours later, they had another break, and shared cookies and a slice of cake. Though they looked back and searched for the spot where they’d stopped for lunch, they could see no further than the forest in midway.

Aloe muttered pensively. “There is no End of the World. It doesn’t end, but continues.”

After two more hours of trekking and drawing, the village appeared in the distance. As the sky turned to shades of marigold and poppy, the sun began to sink behind the hills.

The amber beams of the sunset danced across Aloe’s green eyes and she sighed. “Maybe that’s why the sun and the moon are round. They don’t disappear, but go elsewhere.”

“But they will be back tomorrow,” Basil said, confident.

“The sun, definitely tomorrow, the moon to repeat its different phases next month.”

“Are we going to tell our parents?”

Aloe fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “Not yet. This is still a theory. I have to do more tests. Perhaps, we’ll keep it to ourselves for a while. Tell you what, let’s write down everything in a log, and wait until we’re old enough to prove it. Meanwhile, we have a beautiful scrapbook of different herbs to present to the teacher for our project.”

As twilight spread its velvet blanket over the Mystical Plains, Aloe and Basil chased each other down the road to their homes, their childish laughter filling the air with promise.

Advertisement

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • LinkedIn
  • Facebook
  • More
  • WhatsApp

Like this:

Like Loading...

The Healer

07 Tuesday Mar 2017

Posted by SebnemSanders in Flash Fiction, Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

addiction, agony, animals, clairvoyance, connection, devotion, flora and fauna, gossip, gratitude, healer, healing, helping, herbs, lotions, love, nature's gifts, people, plants, potions, sadness, seer, slander, therapeutic, witch

woman-on-park-bench-690x530

 A woman’s story for Women’s Day and Women’s History Month

Amber left the last town behind her, deciding village life would be better for her. All she wanted to do was to help people with her gift, but it always back-fired. After the gossip and slander, she had ended up as an outcast. The medical authorities criticized her, calling her a charlatan, a witch, and a quack with a sick mind. The people she healed were grateful and awarded her with donations though she never asked for a fee. Going from town to town, she sometimes stopped at fair grounds and practised her clairvoyance skills. She would sit in a stall and feel the people before they walked in. A single glance into their eyes told her their stories and their future, a future sometimes she felt she should not impart.

She arrived at a charming seaside village called Mermaid’s Cove and strolled down the narrow cobbled streets, looking around. Not too big, not too small, this is just fine. A two-storey stone house with an overgrown garden came into view. She felt sadness coming through its windows. The drapes drawn tight across. The front door looked forlorn, its paint chipped and splintered, colour faded. An estate agent’s sign caught her attention and she stepped in.

“I’m looking for a house to rent. The stone house around the corner, is it available? It looks deserted.”

“No, madam, that house is occupied. A lady lives there with her daughter. I have a small cottage by the woods if you’d like. It’s in perfect condition and has a lovely garden.”

When Amber saw the cottage of honey-coloured stone and a thatched roof, she fell in love and rented it. In the village, she bought a bicycle, some provisions, and returned to spend her first night in her new home. Before she went to sleep, thoughts crossed her mind. Never deal with people, again. A castaway in a sea-side village, that’s what I’m going to be.

The new day dawned with the sounds of nature. Birds chirping, a squirrel munching nuts on a tree by the open window. She stood and watched, inhaling the sweet aroma of the herbs and blossoms. Sitting in the garden with a cup of tea, she observed her new surroundings vibrant with the activity of the flora and the fauna.

Over the following days, Amber discovered herbs in the meadows and the forest she could make her potions from. She called all animals in distress to her garden. They came, with their injured limbs, wounds, bites, and many birds with broken wings. She healed them applying her lotions and treatments, gave them love and set them free once they recovered from their ailments.

The children of the village visited her garden and saw the animals recuperating. They called her Lady Healer, and brought their pets in need of attention. Amber told them stories about the animals and the therapeutic plants that helped them. The word spread with the wind and even the village Vet brought her cases he had difficulties dealing with. Sometimes she went along with him to farms in the neighbourhood and helped him diagnose the problems.

One day a woman came to her door. Amber took one look at her and knew she was the lady who owned the stone house in the village.

“Hi,” she said, “Can I help you?”

“I believe you can.”

“You’re in pain. Someone close to you is in distress.”

“Can you help, please?”

“I only deal with animals, not with people.”

“But you’re a healer, aren’t you?”

“That’s what people say. I try to help the animals in pain. People hurt me if I perform healing on them.”

“I understand how some people can be cruel and ungrateful. If I tell you I have spent a fortune trying to cure my daughter’s addiction, would you believe me?”

“I can see it, yet, like I said …”

“If I tell you she’s only twenty-eight, her teeth are falling from crack cocaine and she only weighs forty-five kilos, would you consider it? I’ve tried everything. Psychologists, psychiatrists, rehab, acupuncture, hypnotism … nothing worked. Meanwhile, I have sold and spent the funds from four properties. My house here is the last property I own, inherited from my parents. If I don’t give her money, she goes into prostitution. She’s had three abortions, and the last one was after five months of pregnancy. Murder, but that baby would never be normal. If I give her money, she indulges. Please help.”

Amber looked at the mother’s anguished face and pondered. “Does she want to be healed? If not, nothing will work.”

“She does, yet doesn’t want to go through any of the treatments again.”

Amber sighed, this was a test. “If she does, she must come here and tell me. I have one condition. No one must know.”

“You have my word. I’ll never tell anyone. Thank you.”

Jade, the young woman with a hazy, green gaze showed up at Amber’s doorstep the next morning. Her eyes spoke, yet Amber needed to hear it.

“Help me, please.”

“I need an assistant to look after my animals, convalescing. They need love and care. Can you do it, regularly, on my schedule?”

“I love animals.”

“Good. Follow me.”

Amber showed her the herbs and plants stacked in jars on the shelves in the kitchen, and instructed her about their therapeutic qualities. Marigold, coriander, lemon balm, mint, mullein, thyme, oregano, rosemary, lavender, chamomile, St John’s wort, capers, sage, nettles and wild mushrooms. Then, her herbal mixtures for different remedies. Afterwards, she made a list for Jade’s chores.

Each day before Jade left, Amber gave a her a cup of herb tea. A week later, Jade’s eyes looked brighter, her skin fresh and youthful. She was good with the animals, she spoke their language.

At the end of three months, Jade, completely rehabilitated, continued her education to become a veterinary physician, and helped Amber with the animals during her school-breaks.

Amber cycled down to the harbour, sat on a bench and watched the sea. Castaway on a fishing village to save a soul …

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • LinkedIn
  • Facebook
  • More
  • WhatsApp

Like this:

Like Loading...

Recent Posts

  • A Gift to Remember, a Christmas Story
  • My Flash Fiction Story, Elsewhere, is at the Ekphrastic Review
  • My Flash Fiction Story, Désirée, is at the Subject and Verb Agreement Press Blog Spot
  • My flash fiction story, Interstellar, is at the Ekphrastic Review
  • My Story, The Stranger, is published in Pure Slush’s Appointment at 10.30 Anthology

Recent Comments

SebnemSanders on A Gift to Remember, a Christma…
Fran Macilvey on A Gift to Remember, a Christma…
SebnemSanders on My Flash Fiction Story, Désiré…
Richard Ankers on My Flash Fiction Story, Désiré…
SebnemSanders on My Flash Fiction Story, Désiré…

Archives

  • December 2022
  • October 2022
  • September 2022
  • July 2022
  • April 2022
  • March 2022
  • February 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • October 2021
  • August 2021
  • June 2021
  • May 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • December 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015

Categories

  • blog post
  • Book Excerpts
  • Books
  • Corona Chronicles
  • Fellow Writers
  • Fiction
  • Flash Fiction
  • flash non-fiction/thoughts
  • Flash Poesy
  • Inspired by a True Life Story
  • Interview
  • Memoir
  • micro-fiction
  • My Reviews
  • Newsfeed
  • non-fiction
  • poetry
  • publications
  • Reviews
  • Short Story
  • The Child of Heaven
  • True Story
  • Uncategorized

Recent Posts

  • A Gift to Remember, a Christmas Story
  • My Flash Fiction Story, Elsewhere, is at the Ekphrastic Review
  • My Flash Fiction Story, Désirée, is at the Subject and Verb Agreement Press Blog Spot
  • My flash fiction story, Interstellar, is at the Ekphrastic Review
  • My Story, The Stranger, is published in Pure Slush’s Appointment at 10.30 Anthology

Recent Comments

SebnemSanders on A Gift to Remember, a Christma…
Fran Macilvey on A Gift to Remember, a Christma…
SebnemSanders on My Flash Fiction Story, Désiré…
Richard Ankers on My Flash Fiction Story, Désiré…
SebnemSanders on My Flash Fiction Story, Désiré…

Archives

  • December 2022
  • October 2022
  • September 2022
  • July 2022
  • April 2022
  • March 2022
  • February 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • October 2021
  • August 2021
  • June 2021
  • May 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • December 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015

Categories

  • blog post
  • Book Excerpts
  • Books
  • Corona Chronicles
  • Fellow Writers
  • Fiction
  • Flash Fiction
  • flash non-fiction/thoughts
  • Flash Poesy
  • Inspired by a True Life Story
  • Interview
  • Memoir
  • micro-fiction
  • My Reviews
  • Newsfeed
  • non-fiction
  • poetry
  • publications
  • Reviews
  • Short Story
  • The Child of Heaven
  • True Story
  • Uncategorized

Follow me on Twitter

My Tweets

Follow me on Twitter

My Tweets

Blog at WordPress.com.

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Follow Following
    • sebnemsanders
    • Join 210 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • sebnemsanders
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...
 

You must be logged in to post a comment.

    %d bloggers like this: