Well here’s the August 8, 2019, Carrot Ranch prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about a poisoned apple. Let’s explore dark myth. Deconstruct the original or invent something new. Negotiate the shadows, shed light, but go where the prompt leads you!
Once again, Charli’s post that precedes the prompt was brilliant. Beautiful words about the power of words. Somehow there is always hope glimmering like gold dust over there at Carrot Ranch, despite the wicked happenings in the world. Charli shared these words from Toni Morrison:
“I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge – even wisdom. Like art.”
With a poison apple prompt it is easy to be led to evil stepmothers and other sinners and sins originating from apples. Bad apples… The latin root ‘mal’ means bad, as in malevolent. The latin for apples is Malus domestica. There is something rotten in our House, but I believe apples are all good. As in so many aspects of religions, goddess worship and women’s wisdom, including the symbolism of apples, got appropriated and corrupted to serve a patriarchal worldview. This has not served Mother Earth well.
In response to the prompt I left it to Marge’s friend Lloyd to shed some light on the myths of apples.
Ilene pulled her El Camino in front of the garage. “Lloyd, I went by your place.” She tossed him an apple.
“I’d wipe that silly grin off your face, Lloyd. It’s probably poisoned.”
“Nard, Nard, ye of too much Christian faith. Apples are from the Goddesses’ tree of eternal life. It’s good magic.”
“No, Marge, just here looking for Lloyd.”
Lloyd cut the apple, revealing the five-pointed star inside. He bit into one half while holding the other for Ilene to bite into.
For no apparent reason Ernest went as red as the apple the couple shared.
“Jeez. Ilene, you old crone, just take your boy-toy and go, please. Bob for apples somewhere else.”
“Nard, Nard. You only compliment my consort. For the apple is alpha-omega, the Virgin Kore within the mature Earth Mother. It represents the heart of transformation. You bet we’re leaving.”
Nard made gagging noises as Lloyd spilled into Ilene’s El Camino. Gravel flew before the wheels chirped onto the highway. Nard turned to Marge for support. But she and Ernest had slipped away through the she-shed. Only Kristof remained, holding an apple.
“We should go now too, Lenny, apple of my eye.”