Picked - a ROSE story for Whimword, 29th September 2017

Myri climbed her farm, negotiating mountainous thorns as she did so. As she sucked up the sweet, honey-like secretions of her herd, she dreamed of betterment.

“One day, Nemo,” she said, “we’ll be able to give up this place, and serve the Queen herself!”

The nematode wrapped around her antenna clapped the ends of its body together in approval, and squelched out some words only Myri could understand.

“What’s that Nemo, you have a present for me back at the colony? Oh, you shouldn’t have!”

Myri curled a mandible around her pet in a makeshift hug, and returned to milking her aphids.

Suddenly Myri felt the ground beneath her shift. Her farm was on the move. Myri clung on for dear life while Nemo wound himself tightly around her buffeting feeler.

“Don’t worry Nemo!” she cried, “It’ll be alright, I promise!”

Then, as suddenly as it had started, the quake ceased. There was a violent jolt, and Myri watched in horror as dozens of her herd plummeted to their deaths in the watery grave that had appeared below.

“Quick!” she said, seeing the scarlet petal of her farm resting on the lip of some great transparent wall, “This way!”

She rallied her remaining livestock and made good her escape, climbing out of their circular prison and onto a vast expanse of polished wood. Wasting no time, the green flecks that were her livelihood traversed the desert, all the while guided by her reassuring clicks.

Eventually, the edge was in sight. Myri lighted on a sturdy trunk of the same polished wood, leading down to a hard stone floor. Once there, she breathed a sigh of relief. Beyond a diaphanous curtain she could see the Green Land. The colony couldn’t be far.

In a fit of excitement, Nemo relinquished his grip on her antenna and leapt onto the ground, crawling happily towards the undulating fabric. Then a shadow fell.

“Nemo, look out!” cried Myri.

But it was too late. A huge leathery beast came crashing down in front of her, followed by another. They walked out into the Green Land, leaving chaos in their wake. Myri rushed forward, but Nemo was gone. She picked up his tiny, twitching body in her maw, and wept.

*

Back at the colony, Myri searched her quarters. She found it under her bed. A picture of her with Nemo sat upon her shoulder, drawn in aphid honey on a mote of dust. He’d titled it “My Happy Place”. Myri was wracked with a fresh wave of grief, but swallowed it swiftly when a soldier appeared at her door.

“Good news, worker,” she said brightly, “in honour of your bravery the Queen has decided to promote you to her private command. Pack up your things, and congratulations.”

With that she left. Myri folded up her present and cast around her one last time. She had nothing else. As she scuttled for the door, she wished more than anything that she could just go back to her farm.

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