After he woke up and got ready for work, Alfred processed to open the window and move Igor into the sunlight. "I'll be out now, I'll put you on the ledge because Victoria needs her sun, but don't you try being a naughty boy and -OUCH!"
Somehow, a spine had found its way deep into his finger.
"YOU PRICK! YOU LITERAL PRICK!"
He hadn't been that mad in years. He slammed Igor on the ledge and stormed out, raging. He didn't quite know how yet, but he would take care of this alter-ego problem as soon as he came back.
The day went by.
Returning from work and still fulminating, he was about to enter his studio when he heard rapid footsteps coming up the stairs. He was in no mood for small talks and had almost closed his door when an unknown woman hailed him.
"Wait!… Hi, I'm from the 3rd floor. I don't think we've met before. Look, earlier today I found something on the courtyard's floor. Since it was just down your window, I think it fell off…"
She was holding his cactus. Confused, he gently took it from her have closer look.
His face paled.
The poor thing had been badly damaged by the fall. Half of it was sunk-in, needles in disarray, and all the flowers were gone.
Noticing how flushed he looked, she added, "It was completely out of its pot when I found it, but don't worry, see, I put it back with all its soil and all."
He couldn't reply. His thoughts were racing to give the fall a logical explanation. No wind came in the room, the notion of a draft pushing the plant outside was preposterous…
Maybe he'd put it too close to the edge? No, even if he'd slammed it down, he'd never be that clumsy.
"Are you alright?" The stranger's voice brought him back.
"Yes...no. I really like this cactus. Thanks for your help… "
He closed the door even before finishing his sentence. Serious thinking was required.
Talking wouldn't help.
He couldn't even know Igor from Victoria now the plant was shapeless.
Igor.
Victoria.
Two minds, one cactus.
Which one was the dominant one anyway?
Igor, albeit clearly evil, had shown up pretty late in the relationship. Victoria would never hurt a fly, but she could stand her grounds when needed. They surely gave each other a hell of a time.
It dawned on him in an instant: they did give each other a hell of a time. They'd had fight. It had to be! Victoria had probably realized what Igor had done, and attempted to take over.
Igor, as the bellicose bastard he was, had then refused to give in. That's when Victoria leaped off the ledge, choosing to end it for both of them rather than further expose Alfred to her vile alter-ego.
What was now a shell empty of both personalities would dry-up and die soon. It wasn't important.
Victoria had sacrificed herself to protect him, and he was to honor that gesture the best he could - He'd move out of his rickety room, apply for another job and never again entertain his days at the price of a cactus' sanity.
The last day before moving out, he found a piece of paper slid under his door.
A handwritten message.
"Hi, Haven't been able to catch you, you look like you could do with more going-out. Here's my number if you need a friend, Mr. I'm-nice-to-potted-plants. Text Me.
-Vicky, 3rd floor."
Alfred immediately typed a reply.
"Free for dinner, tell me what time. PS: Cute name."
Sometimes, even small details can be life altering…
Fin.
More info, more cake and still no lemon at Without a Lemon's Facebook Page
Two Minds And A Cactus by Danny Hefer is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
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