Where the dirty flowers grow

Pre-ramble – Having recently discovered that I love Cormac McCarthy’s books I decided that I would devour every single one of them.  I’m currently reading “Suttree” and early on in the book there is a line that contains “where the dirty flowers grow” which caught my attention.  This is an odd statement as one would never think of flowers as dirty but there is also something about it that rings true.  Here is my story inspired by that line…. 


Don’t judge me.

Every day you pass me like I’m not here.  I know you see me, sense me, oppose me.  I the one who dared tread on this prized ground.  Whose ground?  Not your ground, my ground.  You won’t accept this to be true so you walk on by, looking down at me and what you call “those dirty flowers”.  My patch is not a patch on yours; I wouldn’t want it to be.

Can’t you see?  Your flowers match you.  Fragrant.  Bewitching.  Desirable.  Mine match me.  Foul.  Beastly.  Defective.  You recoil when I wave; I only want to say “Hello”.

I’ll never approach you, so don’t fear me.  I’m one of life’s observers, one who sits on the side lines.  Waiting.  Hoping.  Then running in the wrong direction, when someone is kind enough to invite me in.   I’m not the one you should be afraid of; your enemies are closer than you think.  I hear what your friends say, you should listen to them some time.

You should try being an outsider just once, you’ll see things that you never noticed before.

It only takes a moment.  Be still and just be.  The furtive glances between couples who shouldn’t be glancing.  Unidentifiable bottles that are sipped, slurped and

hidden again from view.  Red eyes from unexpected tears because for a moment they forgot to forget.  The wealthy stealing from those with no money as they’d no time to spare.  Yes they were mine but you can have them, you only needed to ask.

This allotment is my home so I will always be here waiting amongst my dirty flowers.  All I want is for you to say hello.


Word count – 280