A Radish

a very short story

Bathed in the afternoon sun, covered in wild grasses and weeds, most of them in flower, the Beauty of the Field spoke to his heart, Come garden here, she said, I make beautiful blooms and excel in shades of green. The man’s heart fell instantly in love. He could not stay, but his heart did, and he promised he would return.

When he did he found that the devil had sprayed poison over the field and all the plants had died, no more green, only dry yellows and oranges, the corpse of the Beauty of the Field. But the man did not give up. He had no idea what poison the devil had used, so he tried to describe the effects to the computer, but all the articles meandered for several paragraphs only to end in the same conclusion, Killing all life is helpful with climate change. Confused, the man pondered what to do. He thought of the Beauty of the Field, and it happened that she was listening, My love, my gardener, please help me, My lady, I would restore you to your former glory and help you rise to new ones, but I do not know how, If the poison is persistent nothing will grow, but there’s always a chance. And so the man set to work, tilling little patches, then throwing out seeds all over, covering and watering them, and waiting. A few days later there was no mistaking it, little greenlings had poked their heads through the soil.

The plants were growing well, but their distribution was sparse and uneven. Sometimes the Beauty of the Field would call to the gardener, I’m thirsty, and he would go find her, resting her head in the sunniest spot, and there give her a drink. But as the plants grew she grew thirstier and so the man dug trenches along the places where the seeds had germinated and in contour with the inclination of the field. But as the seeds were spread all over and germinated randomly the swales were not in neat rows, but rather seemed from above to form unseen letters of an unknown alphabet, like a strange message to the skies. He tried to see if it spelled something but if it did it was in no language he understood. And indeed, by complete chance, or so someone unwise in matters of plant intelligence would say, the seeds had germinated along certain lines, making certain shapes, and those shapes were letters in a language known to the God, and they spelled, It’s here.

The God saw the message from his balcony as he did his morning stretch, and then he announced to his family during breakfast the discovery and his plans for the morning. He left home and later that day arrived at the field, and spoke to the man, We’ve been looking for this place, My lord and my god, I am sure you will have to be more specific, Among those seeds you’ve sown was the chosen one, the best, the most beautiful, the most tasteful radish in the world, but that was not enough, it had to be sown in the right soil, and with the best intentions, not, you see, to grow food, but out of love for her, and the God pointed towards the Beauty of the Field, resurrected. So, my lord, what now, Now, we will wait a few more days and harvest this beautiful radish, and take it to the heavenly farming competition.

And that’s how, a few days later, when the radish was fully grown, the man was taken up to the heavens along with his radish to attend the event, and the radish ended up receiving first prize in root vegetables. Everyone was pleased, the gardener, the God, the Beauty of the Field. It really was an amazing radish.