He's Just A Lawn Mower
A Genesis Inspired Drabble
That was all that he did, mow the lawn. And when he had finished, he made a cup of tea, drank it, and then lay down on the bench in the tree-lined avenue for an afternoon nap.
His lawnmower was rested against the end of the bench; he would be pushing it to mow the lawn tomorrow.
The institute members were happy with how perfectly he kept the beautiful trees in the avenue as well as the lawn, so they were more than happy for him to take the bench when he needed his nap.
Indeed, he was THEIR lawnmower.
About the Creator
Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred
A Weaver of Tales and Poetry
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Letters to ada
Letter I – From Layth to Ada Void, beyond the 22nd century My Dearest Ada, Your eyes... velvet that dissolves the last remnants of my coldness. I was an extinguished ember, until your radiance moistened me like a river-child bending over an ancient thirst in my chest. You blinked—and all of Time leaned toward my mouth. A redness upon your lips touched my fissures, and I softened... I, whom stones never softened. Your iris was my window and my mirror: a core that illuminates and desiccates what remained of my cold soul. I whisper to you a gesture of containment, and I dissolve in Time, even though I was frozen beneath the anesthesia of heavy smoke from a cigarette that keeps the night awake in my blood. I hid a poet in an old box—I feared that if he saw you, the world around me would be disturbed... but your wide lashes excavated the box and awakened what had died before you. You approached... and in the silence of night you were like a thread of light passing over my heart. I saw sorrow wrapped around your white shawl, its yellowness faded as if traces of a day that continued to extinguish. I said to you in a whisper, my voice sagging between fear and wonder: Will you entwine your hand in mine, and shall we slip together to the bottom of Time... without fear? You smiled, and the universe slackened around me, as if the warmth of your fingers was all that remained of the world. And you were asking in silence: “Where is your place within my embrace?” And I, in whose throat the sword of silence had been planted, found myself choosing you before I could speak. Black were your eyes, yet they kindled a daylight within me. And for the first time... O you of the two eyes, I felt that I was luminous.
By LUCCIAN LAYTH4 days ago in Fiction
Bruce Lee and The God of War: Kuan Ti
It starts with love.. The Power to the God Of War and Wealth Walk into a Chinese restaurant (even in Oklahoma, USA), a Chinese police station, a kung fu martial arts studio or even a Chinese temple and you often see a red faced warrior holding a heavy quan-do (spear like weapon).
By WILD WAYNE : The Dragon King7 days ago in Chapters
Comments (7)
Well, I know what I like, and I like what I know...and I like this!
Some stories just seem mad and wonderful...this is one of them. Ha haha. Love it.
You painted in detail that uplifted the picture to a story of life that appreciates the small unnoticed beauties and feelings that make life worth living. You have a sense of observation that is refreshingly unique. Well done my friend.👍
I admire how you use calm, deliberate pacing to mirror the rhythm of the lawnmower’s work and rest; it feels almost pastoral and poetic.
But that's so sad 🥺🥺 Loved your drabble!
Really liked this one on a very personal level for I was a lawnmower for say 20 some years. Good job.
You found a great deal of meaning in this artwork and described it perfectly. And excellent drabble!