Palmer’s Horrifying Demise
By: White Feather
Tags: Humor, Nature, Fiction, Short Story, Anthropomorphism

Palmer was a plant and lived in a pot in Mrs. Glutenhammer’s house. His pot was placed in a very commanding position with a view into every part of the house. The air flow was perfect and so were the acoustics. It was almost like palmer was the center point of the house.

But often Palmer looked across the room at the plants over in front of the big living room window. For several hours each day they were bathed in sunlight. And at night they could look out at the stars. Palmer began coveting a spot at the window.

Palmer was only eight inches tall when Mrs. Glutenhammer put him in that big clay pot. He then spent the next twelve and two-thirds years living in that pot in the very same spot. Eventually he became the tallest plant in the house. Measuring six feet, eight inches tall, Palmer was seven inches taller than the cute ficus tree in the dining room.

Palmer spent an inordinate amount of time fantasizing. He craved adventure. Often he would pretend that his big waxy green leaves turned into wings so that he could fly around the house. He would certainly fly over to the window. Gazing out the window he would no doubt start imagining what life would be like there in The Great Outside.

Palmer envied Beelzebub, Mrs. Glutenhammer’s eight-year-old Jack Russell terrier. With that fiendishly cute smile of his, Beelzebub considered himself the king of the castle. It just is not fair that dogs have legs and can go where ever they want and not be stuck in pots. Palmer dreamed of becoming ambulatory.

He was not exactly hunch-backed but Palmer was definitely crooked. It is because he learned so hard toward the window and the life-giving sunshine that poured through it. He leaned toward his dreams. Leaning seemed to be the only mode of transportation that worked for him.

One day, after Mrs. Glutenhammer left the house for shopping and a visit to the hair salon, Palmer fell into a deeply agitated state then he was overcome by his fantasies. It suddenly felt so real. He began flapping his leaves and sure enough they turned into wings. Opening his eyes, he stared intently at the window. He summoned all of his energy. He was going to do it. He was going to fly over to the window.

To his utter amazement Palmer was suddenly flying through the air toward the window. It seemed like a miracle. But he did not fly for long. Abruptly, he took a nose dive for the floor. Landing face-first on Mrs. Glutenhammer’s fake Persian rug, he briefly passed out.

When he came to, Palmer looked down at his roots to see that they were still in the big clay pot — which now was on its side with copious amounts of wet potting soil strewn widely across Mrs. Glutenhammer’s rug. It was his roots in that heavy clay pot that kept Palmer from truly flying. He may have crashed but for a fleeting moment he did get to experience the thrill of flying.

Suddenly, Palmer was looking into the menacing eyes of Beelzebub. The dog was grumbling, ‘Way to go, Palmer. You realize, don’t you, that when Mrs. Glutenhammer gets home she’s gonna blame me for this mess.”

Palmer apologized to the canine then turned to look in the direction of the kitchen. In the kitchen there was a door that led to The Great Outside. At the bottom of this door was another door… a doggie door!

If only Palmer could muster the strength to drag himself across the floor to that doggie door then he could escape and finally experience The Great Outside for the first time in his life. For half an hour Palmer tried with all his might to move across the floor but with the weight of the big clay pot dragging behind him he covered only four millimeters of distance.

What Palmer did not know is that his spine was broken in three places. He was a goner. Using all the energy he had left trying to get to the doggie door, Palmer was spent. He slowly closed his eyes and gave up the ghost.

Later that afternoon Mrs. Glutenhammer came home sporting a new hairdo in a new shade of orange. As expected, she scolded the dog for the mess then proceeded to dispose of Palmer’s corpse. She then spent forty-five minutes cleaning her fake Persian rug. Finally, when everything was cleaned up she sat down on her couch and turned on the TV. Beelzebub was quickly in her lap.

Absent-mindedly, Mrs. Glutenhammer failed to report the incident to the police.

(Based on a true story.)