The Rusted Flower Garden
The objects glimmered timely, as though to some other planetary routine, for that’s what they were, from another world. Each piece danced and moved subtly, hopping lightly upon the ground ready to part way for the few walkers that ever encountered them. Most of the objects stood scarily still, and could easily have been mistaken for harmless Earth ornaments, where as others took pride in showing off with strange metallic rhythms and dances. I was twenty when I first saw them, whilst I wondered through this garden planet. I felt I must have been the only person to have walked the garden for years (as the accumulated rust suggested to me little sign of life). I had little regret for leaving Earth, the sky may be a damaged orange, but it reverberated warm colours on each garden object making them truly beautiful.
The planet was enough to scare many, as its former idyllic landscape was now replaced with a barren waste, comparable to Earth’s old battlefields or nuclear sites and only the clattering sounds of pots and goblets filled the otherwise silent scape. She stood at the entrance to the garden gate, its lock long since rusted and broken. As she walked, the smell of dirt and solid metal hit the inside of her noise as though bedding home there. Her next visit she would have to hold her breath.
Rust flowers were a native species to the garden, once planted when the first Earth walkers had left old coins in the gardens soil. Now they had grown several times their expectation, and alien metal flowers sprouted. If sprouted could be described to an object? Trinkette bowed down to smell them, though immediately began to regret the metallic scent emanating from each‘bud’. She couldn’t help but touch the soil; dead and black. It was a wonder how anything grew here. She took the heavy bag off from her tired shoulders and began to search its contents. High pitched scrapes and squeals produced out from her secret collection of items. She pushed aside a stone pot that had slowly begun to smash the paintwork off a handmade dish. It had to be somewhere… Faithful to her memory she pulled out a ruby that started to glow strange colours in the orange light. It purred and hummed a strange concoction of violinic pitches and an animal sound. Before she had the chance to muffle its wails, each dancing object suddenly stopped, straightened up and froze to the spot. A cup and saucer almost smashed whilst instantly freezing.
“Great Trinkette, now look what you’ve done” she muttered breathily.
Early Earth walkers had spent extensive years studying each field object individually. Some scientists determined that the objects had their own ‘language’ that would take several more generations to begin to understand. Their ‘frozen’ state as it was named, was a phenomenon most bewildering to humans. It was named after the Earth ‘ice’ that made up a portion of their home planet. It was later determined that such objects ‘froze’ when under intimidation, or direct human contact; much like many herd animals. Nevertheless, Trinkette felt frustrated that she had so stupidly reduced them to their inanimate state. Though at least no one was here to witness her stupidity.
She had never really fit in on Earth, few people had truly understood her if any. She pulled back her thick black curls as the ruby’s glow started to fizzle away at her messy hair. These objects meant a lot to her, she’d ‘collected’ objects on Earth too, Chinese replica vases, old buttons, tacky ornaments, but she’d never realised the importance until now.
Her feet continued to flatten down the dead soil under her shoes. She used the remaining softened red light of the ruby to study the garden’s objects.
“It must be here somewhere, just keep looking” Trinkette Whispered.
Soon enough the ruby sparked up to facet its greatest colour, a dead intense red glow poured light onto a single rusted flower bud, spotlighting it from everything else. This was it! This object could change everything, change history as she knew it. Trinkette reached out one trembling hand to pluck it, when she was thrown full strength to the floor!
I’m a fine art student and am creating a project based on found objects. I have started writing this book to link in, its fictitious and this is a long extract from the first chapter. Just wondered what people thought, baring in mind is first time started writing something like this XD