Strawberry Fields

Welcome to the Spot Writers. This month’s prompt is to write about a picture frame from a thrift store with a message scrawled on the back.

This week’s contribution comes from Chiara De Giorgi. Chiara is an Italian author and currently lives in Berlin, Germany. She writes fiction, with a focus on children’s literature and science fiction.

 

Strawberry Fields

by Chiara De Giorgi

 

Created with Canva

When I got home with a lovely picture frame from the antique shop and opened it, a small note slipped out. I didn’t know then that it would be just the first one.

On the note, handwritten in an old-fashioned script all curls and long loops, with ink that had turned brown over time, were these words: When the moon smiles with clenched teeth, seek what has no roots nor roof. It is not wind, it is not rain, but it comes all the same, with a surprise in store for you.

I smiled. It seemed like a nursery rhyme or a riddle. I’ve always been fascinated by things from the past, so I didn’t throw the note away. Instead, I pinned it to the fridge with a magnet. Passing by it several times a day, maybe I’d solve the mystery.

The second note was waiting for me inside an old science fiction novel I borrowed from the library a few days later. Typed on an old typewriter (the ‘o’s were smudged with ink inside, and the ‘t’s were misaligned), the message read: The sky is not as blue as you think. It’s just a veil, thin and slow. Wait for it to tear, and you’ll see who has been waiting for you for so long.

Well, at least, talking about tears in the sky, it was consistent with the book’s theme! When I got home from the library, I placed the book on the side table next to my reading chair and pinned the note to the fridge, next to the first one.

The next day, returning from the greengrocer’s, I set the bag of apples on the kitchen counter. One apple rolled out and fell to the floor, taking the others with it. Oh well. I wanted to make a pie anyway, so a few bruises didn’t matter. I picked them up and placed them in a bowl, then shook the bag to make sure it was empty. A third note fluttered out, gliding onto the counter next to the bowl of apples. This one had been written with a blue marker. Though handwritten, the letters were very neat, in uppercase print. I read the message: The trembling light is not a star. It’s an eye peeking, curious and beautiful. Don’t hide: smile and wave. They’ve traveled far to see you… you, of all people.

I smiled at the naivety of these verses, but I also furrowed my brow, puzzled. To quote Ian Fleming: “Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. The third time, it’s enemy action.” Who was sending me all these messages, and why? What did they want from me? I just didn’t understand. I frowned as I pinned the third note to the fridge with the others and tried to read them together. Moon, sky, and stars… they seemed to share a theme, but the meaning eluded me. I tried to memorize the lines, letting my brain work on them as I slept.

A couple of days later, autumn abruptly gave way to winter. Outside, a biting wind blew, and my wool cloak wasn’t enough to shield me from the cold. I pulled out the secondhand coat I’d bought at the end of the previous season. “What if…?” I wondered. But no, I’d taken it to the cleaners. If there had been a note hidden in one of the pockets, it would be gone by now. And yet…

Do not fear the circles in the wheat: they are just poorly drawn hugs. Those who arrive do not ask permission, but bring sweets never tasted before.

For some reason, this one annoyed me. It was printed on an old continuous-form paper, the kind used with early printers, with those dot-matrix characters. And that mention of crop circles seemed to wink at my love for science fiction. I’m often scolded for not having my feet on the ground, for reading too much fantasy… surely someone was mocking me. For a moment, I was tempted to crumple up this note and the others and toss them into the fireplace. But at the last second, I changed my mind and pinned it to the fridge with the rest. Someone wanted to make fun of me? Fine, let’s see how far they’d go!

Returning home that afternoon, I immediately noticed the doormat had been moved. Hard not to: the step had a different color where it was exposed to sun and weather compared to the area usually covered by the mat. I looked around, but of course, there was no one in sight. I nudged the mat back into place with my foot, and the fifth note appeared. This one was actually a small postcard. The image was a watercolor drawing of a strawberry field. However, the strawberries were blue, everything that was supposed to be green was yellow and what seemed to be the sky was lime green. Before reading the message in the back, I looked around again. Still, everything was motionless and silent. I did live on a quiet street, after all. I huffed, scowling, put the key in the lock, and went inside. I took off my shoes and coat and went to look out the window on the other side of the house. There, too, everything was still: the trees had lost almost all their leaves. Brown, yellow, and orange, they formed irregular patches on my small lawn. I huffed again and turned the postcard over to read the new message.

It’s not a dream, it’s not a trick. It’s 3:33 when everything changes. Look up, don’t lower your gaze. They’re coming with summer in their pockets.

Instinctively, I glanced at the clock: 3:32. The moment the next minute ticked by, a purple light flared in the sky outside the window and filled the room. Once my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I saw a small, shimmering saucer at the center of the violet halo. Dead silent, not even a vibration. The postcard slipped from my hand, and my jaw dropped, but the surprises weren’t over yet. A new message appeared in the space between me and the saucer. In glowing letters, it read: We’ve finally found you. Would you like to come see our galactic strawberry fields?

 

 

The Spot Writers:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/