Capsicum minimum - Cayenne

Capsicum minimum is short and rather overweight with spiky pointed hands and bright red speared dreadlocks. When I find him he’s sitting stiffly on a tree trunk looking as though any movement would cause him great pain. He’s staring right at me as I walk closer and although he smiles I can see he is quite sad.

“What’s the matter?” I ask as I shake his outstretched hand. As soon as I touch it I can tell something is wrong. It is icy cold and red, his fingertips are dark purple and his knuckles are swollen.

“Sir your hands…are they ok?” I ask distressed.

“Oh they’re the least of my trouble girly” he responds with a sigh. He shifts a little to make room for me beside him and as he does so I can see that his knees are also swollen.

“It’s just old age”, he tells me when he sees I am staring “…I know I need to lose some weight too but it’s just so hard to do”.

“Why is it hard?” I ask.

“When I eat…” he responds, “…I feel as though my stomach is made from lead. It’s like a concrete mixer run outta power, still and stagnant, yet so full”. He is in obvious discomfort. We lapse into silence.

He sits still for a while and stares out into the garden, sorrow flashing through his eyes. Occasionally he puts his hand to his heart and winces in pain.

“I swear my ticker’s on its last legs too. Such a weak little thing, it’ll be any day now that it stops”.

“I’m sorry” I say hopelessly and get to my feet. It is so easy for me to walk yet so difficult for him. He’s given up it seems for he does not even notice as I walk away.

Ginkgo biloba - Ginkgo

Ginkgo biloba stands in the corner, very tall yet wilting. She appears of Chinese origin and her creamy white hair is tied tightly back in circular bulbous buns. She has pale fragile veins visible on her face and between the bunches of hair on her head. When I come closer she extends her hands to me and they fan out from her slight pallid wrists like the lobes of a brain. I try to speak to her but her manner is distant and slow as though she is living lost within a fog.

“Excuse me please”, I say carefully with reserve, but she has looked away from me again and doesn’t seem to know I am there. After some time she looks back confused.

“Who’s there? What is it that you want?” she mumbles looking around, her eyes narrow and squinty, her brow furrowing in concentration. Her bloodless lips tremble when she speaks.

“I wish to know you”, I say, “what is your name?”

“I am…I am…” she appears unsure. “I knew before but now…now I can no longer remember”. She turns away and as she walks I can she that there is pain within her legs because she winces and limps. Suddenly she stumbles to the ground her hand branched over her eyes.

“It whirls, it whirls”, she repeats to herself, “the ringing of bells and the tilting of ground”. She lies for a while on the earth, her body so white it’s like clouded milk. She speaks again:

“So cold so cold: my legs and my feet. They are lacking a warmth, a fire I once had. Soon they will go and leave me alone. No legs, no feet, no warmth, just fog”.

I go to her to help her to stand up but she pushes me away startled.

“Who are you?” she demands anxiously, “and why are you here??”

“We just spoke”, I explain, trying to calm her.

“But I don’t know you”, she whispers frightened “I don’t know you”.

I leave her to her thoughts and move away. In the distance I turn again and there she is as I saw her before, shrouded in white.