Aggie Helne
Bio
Stories (5/0)
The Garden of Eden Has a Pear Tree
Everyone does jobs here. Today I had cut the lawn such as it was, dried up patches of grass amongst the scorched cracked dirt. I gathered up the windfalls and ran the good ones under the tap before setting them in the fruit bowl inside. I rescued the indoor toys that had migrated outside and returned them to the playroom, and I had swept the path and poured boiling water on the ant’s nest. Now I was sat with Sonya on a rusty garden chair that rocked on the uneven surface with a cup of tea. We were seeking shade from the midday heat under the pear tree and from the assortment of antiquated sheets drying on the line. I start sobbing again Sonya looks up, smiles sympathetically and reaches for my hand; I brush the tears from my face again and squint as I watch my boys playing on the swings. They are busy with new friends.
By Aggie Helne3 years ago in Humans
Homecoming
Homecoming I was raised in a small rural town with traditional values. The town was famous for its carrots, not because they were anything special but because there were so many of them. There was a big carrot processing factory smack in the centre of the high street, with its huge rust coloured corrugated iron shed and messy yard, and because of this the town never bothered to enter the local prettiest town contest, but we also never had to buy carrots. If you needed carrots, you foraged for them in the street gutters where they fell from the old flatbed trucks. The supermarket didn’t even bother to stock them anymore.
By Aggie Helne3 years ago in Families