“Fractal Hant” #30
by Cherie Ann Turpin
(30 Stories in 30 Day)
You find a strange blue crystal on your driveway one evening while picking up the newspaper. You take it inside and placed it in a glass of warm water, thinking it to be a nice stone to use in your endless collection of homemade jewelry sitting in your bedroom. It sits on your window shelf over the kitchen sink for about five days, upon which you, after forgetting its existence, glance up at the glass while washing dishes. You almost jump back at what you see.
Two crystals now occupy the glass, and two others are now sitting on the shelf. You pick up the glass, and, using paper towels, scoop up the other crystals, panicking at what seems to be an impossibility. Each crystal is equal in size and each one now seems to cast a reddish hue when close to each other. You dump it all into a small plastic bag, including the glass of water. You dump it all into the green garbage container you’ve already rolled out to the curb for the early morning garbage guys. It takes four men to lift the garbage container into the truck to dump out the trash.
Kneeling on your couch cushions, you peek through your living room curtains to see them step back at the container’s contents mixing with the neighborhood’s trash: dozens and dozens of crystals that seem to glow like fireflies. You close the curtain and slowly stand up, as you turn around to see something you don’t want to see: a single crystal sitting in the middle of your living room carpet, turning red, then black as it levitates up to the height of your face.