A Home For Nana

Karen Schauber
Slackjaw
Published in
2 min readApr 3, 2024
Image from Pixabay.

Nana is weak and feeble, on her last legs. We take her to the desert. The long drive stretching into tomorrow. Sun dissolving into dusk, dusk bending into night, a blaze of stars scatters across the blackened sky, pointing the way to another world.

By early morning we have placed Nana in a well-lit but not too sunny spot, where the soil is moist but not too soggy. We wait a few weeks for her to come back to life. Surely it can happen. In the wild, cacti can survive, even revive, and thrive for hundreds of years. Spiky and spiny, adaptation is their hallmark. Nana is our beloved prickly pear. Wiki says that many cacti have short growing seasons and long dormancies. We can live with that. The Monocarpic plant flowers only once, which is why it is called Death bloom succulent. We think Nana may fit in this category.

We learn that the saguaro cactus, Carnegiea gigantea, the largest cactus in the U.S., can often reach 40 feet in height. The saguaro provides both sustenance and safe harbor for a variety of desert species and plays a vital role in the culture of the Tohono O’odham people. Over the long haul, Nana would want to be of service. We leave her here and hope for the best.

Karen Schauber’s flash fiction has been nominated for Pushcart, Best Microfiction, Best Small Fictions, and a spot on the Wigleaf Top 50. She curates Vancouver Flash Fiction’, an online resource hub for flash fiction writers and enthusiasts. Read her at: https://karenschaubercreative.weebly.com

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Karen Schauber
Slackjaw

Karen Schauber's flash fiction appears in over one-hundred international literary magazines, journals, and anthologies. She lives in Vancouver, British Columbia