Fractal Myth


[Michelle Chapman ©2001]

The kikuyu stretches out its tendrils in the sun, green blades growing thicker and stronger every day. It grows through and under and over and longer and longer until it feels itself capable of carpeting the whole open expanse around it. Soon, even this isn't enough, and it begins to twine and grow and smother its way into the man's herb and flower gardens.

The man stretches out his hands in the sun, long fingers growing thicker and stronger every day. He wrenches up the kikuyu from the borders of his herb and flower gardens, cursing as he snaps the stem of another prize chrysanthemum. This kikuyu is a menace. What right had it to grow through his lovely herb and flower gardens?

The hawk stretches out its wings in the sun, soft feathers growing thicker and stronger every day. It circles high on a current of warm air, the man's property spread out below it. It is looking for the tree where it was born, but the tree is gone. In its place is a little group of struggling fruit trees. The man has started a compost heap in the far corner of this orchard. Already a few strands of kikuyu have escaped and are blazing a new bright green trail into the bush.

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