Benevolent Gardens

The was room cool and dark, but Braffion was exuding with anticipation. On his messy bed, he stared at his dresser. No, not just dresser. He stared at what was on top of the dresser.

Braffion didn’t understand why he contemplated on picking up the mushroom. He knew he did everything correctly. He ate nothing all week, he only drunk water, and made sure only happy thoughts ran through his mind. Three steps his friends repeated to him over and over again.

Thinking about it made him nervously drink some more water, only for the cup to spill over onto the floor when he reached for it. “Are you kidding me?!” He complained. “Why is it so hard to eat this piece of plant?! Or is it a plant?” Braffion no longer cared to think too much about it and just tossed the mushroom in his mouth.

After a few minutes, Braffion felt a little light on his feet. The room became colorful in the dark. The mermaid statue hanging on his door smiled at him. Her soft pretty voice said, “She’s waiting for you by the tree.”

Braffion instantly knew what she meant. He got off of bed, walking straight out the house barefoot without shutting the door behind him. He only wore his white tank top and red basketball shorts. Far beside himself was the woods. He sauntered down there, ignoring his feet being scratched up by tiny broken sticks, branches, and rocks. Nature had an purple aura to itself and he could feel Mother Nature being alive.

Up ahead was a large tree. Something he sat by all the time when he’s feeling artistic. But this time a nearly nude woman with golden skin and long black hair took his spot. Her special parts were being covered with leaves. Her smile was perfect. She spoke, “My dear sweet husband, Ashimè. I’ll see you real soon.” Then she vanished, but not without sending good energy towards him.

It’s as if Braffion was in a perfect dream that he didn’t want to escape from. But after she vanished, he ran straight home and went into his art room. He grouped up all the clay he could find and began sculpting the voluptuous woman from sun up to sun down.

Braffion was sound asleep once it was over. When he woke up pushing himself off the floor, he grunted, feeling the pain in his entire body. When Braffion saw the statue he created, his jaw dropped. “Did I do this?!” He wondered in awe. “Wow.” After a moment of admiration, Braffion smelt an unpleasant odor and sniffed his messy shirt. “Aw man! I need a shower!” Walking out the room, he noticed his door was left wide open and saw a raccoon crawling on his kitchen counter.

                                          ***

Deep breaths is all Braffion had to keep taking as he stood right outside the most popular art gallery in Sangelum. He would’ve brought his family with him but they’re not on good terms and he doesn’t believe they’ll ever be.

He simply puts that to the back of his mind, fixes his purple tie from his black suit, and makes his way in. He admired everyone’s elegance of style in terms of the way they dressed.

When Braffion sauntered throughout the gallery, he thought everyone art was good, some decent, and others that had him wondering how did it get picked to be here.

The questionable art kind of looked like a picture of a family with macaroni pieces used to make it. Braffion didn’t think it was a bad thing. But he didn’t think the pieces put together were precise enough. “They must’ve paid big money to get out here.” He mumbled to himself.

“Excuse me!” A boy shouted behind him. “I worked very hard on that art piece.”

Braffion turned around with wide eyes. He estimated the boy had to be at least thirteen to fifteen years old. “Sorry. I didn’t know.” He apologized.

“Where’s your art piece!” The boy demanded to know.

“It’s somewhere around here.” Braffion responded calmly.

“What’s your name?!” The boy asked.

“Braffion Ashulao.”

“Good! I’m going to look for it!” Then the boy stormed off.

While he did that, Braffion took a moment to read the name of the boy’s art piece. “Cejine Primaoliver.” He shrugged his shoulders, moving on to the next artist. After walking past a few paintings, one in particular, made him stop in place. Braffion stared at a picture of a golden skin man with thick black curly hair sitting in front of a tree. He wore absolutely no clothes and only leaves covered his special parts. Braffion leaned towards the picture to read the name at the bottom left corner. “Hek-ka-deem? He-kah-dime?”

“It’s pronounced Heh-kah-dim-may. My last name is pronounced wess-su-gah.” A woman said.

Braffion looks at the name again. “Hekaudime Wessiuga. That’s a… unique name.”

“I know. My face is prettier than my name.” Hekaudime said.

They both laughed.

“No, no, no. It’s not a bad name at all! I meant it when I said it’s unique.” Braffion said.

“Shhh. Calm down. I was only joking.” Hekaudime smirked.

“Oh. My bad.” Braffion smiled anxiously.

They were quiet for a second until Hekaudime mentioned, “Hey, I saw statue from back there. It’s crazy how we came with the same concept, only that we used different genders.”

“Right…” Braffion gazed at her astounded. “So what’s your inspiration behind wonderful painting?”

“I just… I just had an ethereal dream of this naked man sitting next to a tree.” Hekaudime started as her eyes gleamed with warmth. “He told me that we’ll be seeing each other very soon again.”

“Did he tell you his name?”

“Huh?” Hekaudime warming eyes changed into curiosity.

“I said; did he tell you his name.”

Hekaudime pondered on it for a second. “No, he didn’t tell me his name at all. But he did refer to me as Warjine.”

“Warjine?” Braffion repeated intriguingly.

“Yes.” Hekaudime replied.

“Interesting.” Braffion said. “My inspiration, like yours, came from walking to a tree and seeing a beautiful nude woman sitting next to it. She didn’t say her name, but she called me Ashimè.”

“That’s an interesting dream.” Hekaudime widened her eyes.

“Oh, it wasn’t a dream. I took a psychedelic.” Braffion admitted.

“What?!” Hekaudime widened her eyes again. She leans in to whisper, “I thought psychedelics were illegal, is it not?”

“A lot of drugs are illegal. I just hide it better.” Braffion smirked. Hekaudime shyly smiled. “Want to get a drink?”

“Sure.” Hekaudime answered.

As they begin to walk, Cejine returns. “I saw your art piece!” Stabbing his finger in Braffion’s face.

Braffion and Hekaudime glance at each other awkwardly. “And what did you think of it?” Braffion asked.

“I hate you. But it’s amazing.” Cejine said.

This story belongs to, and is written by Devond Devoe

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