JANUARY 6, 2022

800 Word Story ~ Brenda’s Berries

Welcome to the first 800 Word Story of 2022! I’ll be publishing two stories a month, and what better way to kick it off than with a solo effort?

I’m also curious to see how Bill interpreted this prompt. To read his story called “Love?”, be sure to follow the link here.

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Prompt: I loved the way she said “balloon.” She said it as if she were blowing bubbles.

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brenda’s berries

I loved the way she said “balloon.” She said it as if she were blowing bubbles.

Her plump lower lip rested under a thinner top one. On someone else, it might look out of place, as if injected with collagen, but not on Sadie. The combination of a full mouth, eyes set far apart, and a pale complexion worked well together.

Sadie was delicate and oddly beautiful.

When she enunciated certain words beginning with a “B,” she pursed her lips and hollowed out her cheeks. Her bottom lip jutted out, and her mouth remained open like she had something else to say. Only when she appeared frozen in front of me did I know to speak.

“Are you all right?” I said.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Another thing about Sadie—she rarely answered my questions directly.

“What is?”

“Sometimes you seem so close, like I can almost touch you.” She waved her hand back and forth in front of me. “And then, sometimes you don’t seem real.”

I knew what she meant. I was a talking head staring into a camera—body upright and stiff. No hand gestures, no shifts in posture that might convey restlessness, no body language to soften the interaction. All I had were my words. I lowered my voice, spoke slowly. “I know this is hard, Sadie, but you will get through this.”

“I hope so. I hate meeting like this. I feel like I’m going crazy somedays.” She bit down and sandwiched her lip between her two front teeth, her usual pout. “I’m bored—bored, bored, bored!”

All of a sudden, she got up and walked off screen. “I’ll be right back!” she shouted.

I heard the fridge door open and close. Moments later, she returned holding something. “Brenda from next door dropped off strawberries for me. Imagine that? I didn’t even think she liked me.”

A blurry, close-up of a pint of berries filled my monitor. I instinctively leaned in to take a closer look before they disappeared.

“They look good,” I said, just to acknowledge I saw them.

“Yeah, I suppose. I’m allergic to berries, but Brenda insisted I keep them, said she bought too much, and they’re organic. I’m not sure I trust her. What do you think, Doc?”

I leaned back in my seat. “From what you’ve said about Brenda in the past, she seems lonely but harmless. Still, I wouldn’t feel obliged to eat them if you have an allergy.”

“They do look good, but I haven’t had berries since I was a kid.”

“What happened?”

Sadie breathed heavily and slouched. “I was at summer camp, broke out in hives after eating wild blueberries. The nurse gave me an antihistamine. That helped with the swelling, but I was itchy for weeks after that.”

“And you’re allergic to strawberries too?”

“Well … I don’t know. I’ve never eaten strawberries. Mom said we should stick to the run-of-the-mill fruits, you know—apples, pears, bananas. All berries, especially strawberries, were too exotic she said. We probably couldn’t afford them, so it was just as well.

I smiled, resisted the urge to say anything.

“I’m tired of living in fear. I want do things like we talked about—go out, meet people, be social, but this isolation is keeping me afraid. I was doing well before the world shut down, wasn’t I?”

“And you’re still doing well, so there’s no reason to take unnecessary risks right now, especially before you receive a second vaccine. Have you scheduled it yet?”

“In two weeks, two more long weeks of isolation in this tiny apartment.”

“Two weeks will fly by. I promise you.”

Sadie’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Sorry … I’m feeling emotional today, can you give me a minute?”

“Of course.”

When Sadie moved off screen, I scrolled through my calendar. Nothing until one—good. It gave me time for lunch before the next tiresome Zoom appointment.

I jotted down a few notes. When I heard footsteps getting louder, I expected to see Sadie back in front of me. Instead, a deafening crash jolted me from my seat. I ripped out my earbuds and disconnected the jack from the computer.

“Sadie!” I yelled into the screen. “What happened?”

The image on my monitor looked like parquet wood flooring. “Did you drop your computer? Are you okay?”

A muffled sound hit my eardrums followed by a loud wail. I winced.

I stared at the screen, tapping the volume key until I heard Sadie’s weak voice. “Doc …”

“Sadie! I’m here. Did you fall? Talk to me!”

The screen shifted to reveal part of her tear-stained face in the camera. “I ate … I ate … a berry … I can’t—I can’t breathe … ”

Her head turned and all I saw were her lips, swollen to double their size.