Marion’s house in New York was tiny, and her yard was smaller. Nevertheless, she insisted on a lush garden. She mounted brackets on the wall to place more pots. She even mounted pots up the trunk of her cherry blossom tree.
Her high-powered, concrete-jungle-dwelling, corporate neighbors thought she was weird. As they passed her they’d loudly say things like: “Freak!”, Weirdo!”, and “Ey! What’s Looney-Bin food like?”
Marion rightly ignored them. She soon had a living wall with so many plants she lost track of them.
This was the perfect environment for the aliens Apostideae and Bromilius. The two looked much like Terrestrial carnivorous pitcher plants, except five-feet tall with aggressive tentacles to pull in prey, and stomach acids that dissolved food in mere minutes.
Bromilius watched people flow by. “There’s so much food here. What should we eat? We need some Rules of Devouring.”
“We can’t eat just anyone,” said Apostideae. “We’d give our presence away.”
“Let’s not eat the gardener for starters. She’s nice.”
“I got it! Let’s only eat the humans who are rude to other humans.”
Bromilius crossed his tentacles in exasperation. “You do realize we’re in New York, right?”
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction: https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/04/23/sunday-photo-fiction-april-23rd-2017/
Pitcher Plant: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pitcher_plant