A spontaneous story written based on the following prompts given to me by my coworkers:
Britney – Denim Lady – Scuba Divers – Cactus
When Britney heard she would be working with the famed “Denim Diver” she was elated. The woman was a legend. She had practically invented the modern scuba tank.
They were to meet for a dive at the tip of a large peninsula on the west coast. Britney had heard rumors of some unusual crustacean activity near the peninsula and she assumed that to be the reason behind their meeting location. When Britney arrived, she stepped out of her car to greet the Denim-clad woman, who was already dressed head to foot in her unique denim diving suit, but Britney stopped in her tracks when she saw what the Denim Lady was holding in her hands.
Planted neatly in a clay pot there was a prickly pear cactus. Britney’s worst fear. Her legs started shaking as she approached the Denim Woman, who wore a ghastly vicious smile.
“Welcome, Britney, we’re so glad you made it.”
“What’s going on.” Britney said nervously, keeping her distance from the awful plant.
“I used to be like you, Britney,” the woman said, “I used to be terrified of the prickly-pear cactus. But then I started wearing denim and it all changed.”
“But what does this have to do with diving?” Britney blurted out in utter confusion.
“That’s what we invited you here for. We are the clan of the prickly-pear cactus. While the plant haunts us, with the protection of denim, we are free to utilize the immense powers it can give us [for diving]. The cactus is our leader and our greatest fear. And we want you to join us.”
Britney was stunned, and honored. She had heard of the clan from a friend of a friend but she hadn’t believed it. It was nonsense, wasn’t it?
Two men approached Britney carrying the traditional denim garb of the clan and Britney slipped on the jacket. Immediate relief. Suddenly she was able to walk up to the plant. And something strange happened. It was almost as if the plant was talking to her. She could feel it. And she knew. She was ready to embrace the power of the prickly-pear cactus.
This is part of a collection of short stories I wrote as a cashier.
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