Oh, No, Not Again, a story for the Giraffe Call

I asked for prompts regarding Circles here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to Thnidu’s Prompt here and plays off of this piece of fan art and the quote below

Many people have speculated that if we knew exactly why a bowl of petunias had thought that we would know a lot more about the nature of the Universe than we do now.

Oh, no, not again.

The bowl of petunias plummeted towards the ground, no room in what it could pretend, loosely, was a brain for anything except a vague and dissatisfied sense of what, if you were going to translate it into Galactic Book Standard, would sound mostly like not again.

It was very good at falling. It had, as fate would have it, far more practice than any single bowl of petunias had any right to.

Of course, it had been a missile not all that long ago, and missiles are, after all, rather designed for falling at high velocity.

But the thing about this particular missile-cum not like that you silly git-petunia bowl, was that it had been hit with reality trans-changers so very often that it had not only died the coward’s deaths, it had not only fallen to earth (or at least something with a ground that was unpleasant to hurt) more times than any one bowl of petunias – or missile – ever dreamed of (inasmuch as bowls of missiles had dreams), but it had come to remember everything, including the transformation.

Now, neither a missile or a bowl have that much memory to hold on to such thoughts. But what this ~thing~ had, whatever the shape it was in at the moment, was the strongest field of morphic resonance ever attributed to a single fictional creation.

So strong, indeed, was this field, that it was named in another universe, by a creature that did not exist at all where the petunia – who had once been a man (or at least one that some people would call such, but some people will call something anything) – had first been born. Yes, indeed, this bowl of – oh, dear, these pieces of a bowl of petunias – had a trans-universal morphic field.

That wasn’t that bad this time. A foul-tempered one-eyed grey tomcat picked himself off, shook himself, and walked off down the road. Somewhere, there would be milk.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/725040.html. You can comment here or there.

0 thoughts on “Oh, No, Not Again, a story for the Giraffe Call

  1. Love this. Typo perhaps in closing the artwork link as it seems to be a large chunk of the fic that is linking.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *