Leigh Aplin

Her fur is gone and that makes me sad. I liked sitting here watching her, but I was envious of her freedom. I’d like that kind of freedom too. Alistair says it’s too dangerous for me to go out there.

My attention snaps back to her. Something moved. I wonder if her babies are back. They used to show up often when she still had fur…and skin. Now plants grow around her bones, but I still see the full shape of her. I prefer to picture her walking gracefully through the forest. Like I used to.

The “deer corpse” is what Alistair calls her. But I’ve named her Daisy, due to the fact that a daisy grew through her eye socket and I thought, what a beautiful perspective that would be. Alistair says we’re lucky to be here, with nature in our backyard and the river so close. I rarely see him go out there though and this perplexes me, because he can.

I focus on Daisy. Straining to see, my hands press against the window. It’s raining and I want to curse this weather, but I won’t. Alistair says it’s bad luck and we don’t need any more of that.

Then I see: A chipmunk scurries in and out of Daisy’s mouth. Her skull is now a home. I imagine he’s stashed away seeds where her brain used to be. Her eyes will be wonderful windows to watch the world while he eats.

A crash of thunder rattles the window and startles me. Alistair’s been gone all day. I wheel myself to the kitchen and flick on the radio. 

Repeat: This is an emergency alert. Anyone in the River Valley Region, seek higher ground now. The potential for flash flooding is imminent or occurring. Repeat…

I’m already outside when I hear it coming. I try to reach Daisy, but the ground is so wet that my wheels keep sinking. I drop down and drag myself to her. I don’t know why, but I need to rescue her. She can’t be left alone. Neither can I.

By the time the water comes I have her skull wedged into my lifejacket. At first, the water just kisses me, then works its way over my thighs until it lifts me up, and I’m floating. Daisy’s bones have washed away, but her skull is safe with me.

She rests on my chest and I see through her eyes the chipmunk cowering inside, cheeks bloated with seeds. I think about all the seeds that have been planted in my skull: what I could’ve been, what I could’ve done, where I could’ve gone, and I realize these could-haves are just the seeds I let grow. I ignored all the other possibilities.

We float past the town and around the bend where the playground used to be. People wave and shout at us but we can’t hear them, so I just wave back. And all I can think is, I’m finally free.

Leigh’s prompts were: During Extreme Weather, a Corpse, Seeds

Leigh Aplin is a Canadian writer of flash fiction, poetry and short stories. Her writing is influenced most by nature, science, folklore and mythology. Leigh previously worked in communications and marketing and also taught business writing. She can be found on Bluesky @leighaplin.bsky.social

Read more from Leigh:

Grit Lit – ‘The Life of Drake Harvey‘