palme d'saille

below is a short story based on a dream i had once.

these words, foreign to me, but i understood what they meant. Palme D'Saille,,

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The little pricks that line the outer palm of a weeping willow leaf sway in the wind, resting inches above a river’s current that rushes down a stream, home to an ecosystem of life,, a small fish with white scales flashes silver as wades idly in the stream, a piece of bread ruptures the surface of the water, it logs full of water, and floats downwards passed the little white fish, the little white fish attacks the bread with one wide gulp as an impulse, without thought and without reason, but instead is biologically programmed to consume presumptive food that passes by the few inches of sight it has,, suddenly a bigger fish with a few more inches of eye sight attacks likes a flash of light, mouth wide, it consumes the little white fish without thought and without reason, it's neurons fired to do so as that was biologically programmed to do so when presumptive food is within the few inches of its eyesight.

Palme, a grotesque man sits atop the embankment of the water where a wading pool for fish putters below, his face is ragged and rough, the deepest crevasses of his hacked face filled with grime and dirt, his dirty hair is long enough to poke his cheek bones, and his beard is full, a few inches long and unkempt, his fingers grip a fresh baked loaf of brown crust from a bakery nowhere near him, his nails are bitten short and lined with black scum, but this sanitation is customary to him, and although the abundance of water before him he first thought is not to clean himself but it is to consume his lunch whilst sharing it with his fish friends, although if he knew how to fish he would be having his fish friends for lunch as well.

The willow that tops Palme is the home that he has made for the time being, his delusion has named this tree Consequence, a name he thinks is fitting, a word paradoxically learned from Consequence himself, Palme throws some bread to the tree in an effort to shed his gluttony, as all life must eat and Palme takes care of his friends, the tree that looks over him and protects him, Consequence, is his favorite friend, they converse, say goodnight, and good day, each day. 

A bird swoops quietly behind Palme and picks up the bread, it takes it to the nest nestled inside Consequence where it has five babies all screaming for food, the ragged bird takes care of the babies and works hard for them no different than a mother of any kind, Palme turns to see the bread gone and grumbles happily, Don’t eat too quick my friend, you’ll clog your arteries they say, ;;You are welcome;; Consequence’s voice is slow and deep, huffing it’s voice out in punctuation, Palme lies back and looks up into the abundance of the willow, one of his eyes is infected, an arm of the willow bends down directly above the infected eye, the micro needles of the leaf punctures into Palme's infected eye, Palme winces and then relaxes as Consequence injects a serum of nature and resilience. 

Thank you, ;;You’re welcome;; they finish the treatment, Palme’s eye appears to have lost a bit of the haze that was clouding it once before, Thank you once again, you are too kind to me, I don’t know how I could repay you, I have nothing and nobody will help me, but I don’t know what I would do without you, Consequence stands still as Palme capitulates his woes aloud, a tear runs down Palme’s face, cutting through the grime and leaving a clean streak as it goes down his face, Palme falls asleep under the willow.

Thank you, you’re welcome, thank you, you’re welcome, thank you, you’re welcome, Palme talks while lying down in the street, he is haggard, and he is being passed by busy city-goers, he is muttering to himself again, though naturally as he usually does, speaking to no one in particular and speaking to no one for nothing that they have done for him or for what they are going to do, he speaks because he does, for no reason, or maybe for something though it is not one that anyone would know, there is a cup and a board with black scribbles written a-symmetrically, as though he tried hard to write neatly but could not draw an even line, Help, Need Surgery For Eye, the board says, it sits next to him and to the old coffee cup that is empty, not a cent to his name, no hope in sight, Palme lies with his glazed eye surrounded by bruised purple skin, what is forming is unknown, but it is certainly getting worse. 

A few dollars drop down into the cup below, breaking what seemed like an hour of silence for Palme, perhaps he had fallen asleep, but he was and is not in tune with what is and was going on around him, Thank you, no response is heard, he is drowned out by the footsteps and cars around him, the tall glass buildings shoot into the sky, he can’t see how high they go, his eyesight is failing, surely in his rotten eye, but he has never had good eye sight and has never had the money to get glasses, but the dollars in his cup has never gone to ill vices, he doesn’t smoke or drink, he doesn’t use drugs except for when he is prescribed, he refuses the -cets and the -ums and the -pams as he has seen his friends lose to them, he is a good person by his own standards, he is governed by his morals and hopes of breaking his circle of consequence, but his day has not come yet, his eye hurts, his brain swells, he hopes and says thank you out of habit, out of what has now become self-programmed, he cherishes his cup, he knows how to make a dollar turn into a day’s meal for three or four, he makes sure to share, as his money was not earned because of work he tells himself, it was donated by a kinder soul who could spare a thought to drop a buck, so he chooses not to be selfish and he chooses to share it and make it last with those who are also in need, he often takes his meals to the river, to the tree where he finds shelter, to the fish who have joined him during their spawn, the birds who steal for their young, he shares because that is who Palme is, and that is what his morals tell him to do.

;;You vile, you sick man, get the fuck out of here;; Okay, sorry, thank you, he softly repeats, Palme hastily exits a small grocery shop holding his daily bread, a small bottle of milk, and some mystery jerky, he walks down the street holding his meal, excited to share with Consequence and the fish in the bank, looking forward to the birds who think they steal, but in truth he shares, and so he marches forth through business clad people who pass by in droves of narcissism, they ignore him, scoffing here and there at the homeless man who stains their periphery, Palme is happy for the moment, his dollar has gotten him more than he could have imagined, suddenly a burly man with a thick orange beard walks into Palme, or as Palme sees it, it was surely himself who has hit the burly man, either way the crash causes a stir as the loaf that Palme had in his hands sandwiched with the milk bottle which had burst, soaking both the man and Palme, but also the bread, ;;You fuckin’ bastard, look where you’re goin’;; I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, if sorry can fix something, please have it, the burly man continues his walk, now angry and grumbling, he leaves Palme standing on the street disheveled, his bread on the ground in a puddle of milk and dirt, surely ruined, Palme kneels down, he immediately rips off a piece of bread, breaking it down the middle to separate the side that is now soaked in milk and the dry side, at a loss, he sops up as much milk as he can with the wet half of the bread and mutters, It can only get worse, He picks it up, looking at the dirty wet bread, he knows better than to waste his food, especially since he did not earn it, he takes a bite into the soggy dirty bread and swallows it.

Back at the riverbank sits Palme, once again under Consequence and throwing the better half of his loaf to the water, he looks up at Consequence to speak, I am sorry, I only have half a loaf to share today, you see I ruined a man’s shirt today, and spilt milk on my loaf of bread, but I do have some jerky, there isn’t much but there is more than enough for all of us to try it, the man at the shop said I could have it so long as I don’t come back, it was nice of him to give this to me, all for a dollar, Palme looks into the leaves of Consequence, I ate the dirty half of the bread so you could have the clean half, well it was only on the ground for a moment, still better than the wet stuff I ate, Palme laughs at himself and the situation he caused for the poor burly man, My eye is getting worse you see, it seems to get bigger each day, and there is a lot of pressure in there, can you please help me, Palme is still smiling despite the confession, his eye is noticeably bigger than it was the day before with swelling and more bruising, the lens of his eye is glazed over again, it looks rotten, it is rotting, Palme closes his eyes as he smiles, Thank you, im sorry