Danny Against the Grass

Danny started at the grass. For generations this spot had been viewed with suspicion and fear.

That would end today.

“Danny, what’s with the gas can and the lighter?”

Danny ignored the question posed to her by Hank. The two had known each other long enough that she felt he already knew the answer.

“Can I help at least?” Hank asked.

Danny nodded.

“Why today?” Hank asked.

“Better than tomorrow,” Danny answered.

“No!” The grass shouted. “I’ll kick you.”

Hank fell over, landing with a thud and a groan.

“Your time is over, grass,” Danny threatened.

“I am all that is and all that will be. You cannot defeat me. You can inflict tremendous pain and for a moment I will go away, sure. Yeah. That’s a good strategy actually. But you shouldn’t because the result is temporary at best!” The grass cried.

Danny poured the gas can, emptying its contents on the talking patch of grass. Hank stood up and demanded the lighter.

The grass screamed for a moment. Silence followed.

Certain their work was complete, Hank and Danny walked away. The rains would fall soon enough, brining an end to the blaze. They were content.

“Dad, that story is weird,” said eight year old Roan to his scrambling father.

“You needed to know that the term is important. See, I was calling you a pain in the grass. That means you stand up to things that are seemingly impossible to defeat,” Roan’s dad explained.

“Still sounds weird,” Roan said he bounced off to play once more.

“That was a close one,” Roan’s dad mumbled.


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