Spontaneous Insanity

The sand crunched and shifted beneath the oversized tires of a visitor's car rolling to stop underneath the fruit-laden trees belonging to a tiny, white-haired widow. She was well known throughout the county although rarely had a visitor. Occasionally, she could be seen in the wee hours of the morning stirring a pot hanging over a makeshift fire. This tale was told periodically by passersby but eerily seemed out of character for the usually quiet little old lady. The stories sometimes would spin wildly. One story had her singing as she stirred, the song evolving into a witchy cackle about eyes and tongues and sweet seasonings made of the sun. The label, understandably, was knit into one of insanity for the goings on nobody understood. The visitor had no idea of the reputation of the one they were stopping to ask directions or else there would have been no visit. The little old lady smiled a toothless grin as she gently hopped down each concrete step leading from her oversized porch. "What can I hep yous fellers with?" she screeched. The visitor grimaced as his shoe plopped deep into a half rotten peach lying on the ground. "Not yous. Just me. I need directions back to the main road, if you know." The old lady widened her blue eyes behind her spectacles which made her eyes seem double their size, "IF I know? Well, young feller! I been here in dis house since before the roads were paved!" The visitor tightened his silk tie around his neck and grimaced as he shook the remains of the rotten peach from his shiny black shoe before he headed toward the silver haired woman with a forced smile cracking his stern expression. The old woman smiled wider, "Yessiree! Come on inside and I will write you dem direct shuns!" And she turned to go back up the steps with the visitor close behind. Once inside, she motioned for him to have a seat in an old but comfy looking highback chair and she said she'd be right back with what he needed. The next thing he knew, she was standing behind him singing in a cackling voice about eyes and tongues and sweet seasonings made of the sun. WHACK! A shovel blade divided the visitor's skull with one blow. The little old lady happily jammed her hands inside and grabbed the eyesballs from the sockets. She dropped each dripping orb into an apron pocket before jamming her gnarled hands back inside the opened skull to grasp the back part of the tongue. "Gotta break it off at the strongest muscle!" Her white hair slapped front to back as she jerked. Suddenly the tongue broke off and the little old lady held it up, blood gushing. "What a fine specimen for stew tonight!" She poked the widest part of the gushing tongue into her mouth and sucked the main artery until it slowed to a drip before dropping it into a pocket to accompany an eyeball. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number, cheerily asking, "Son? I have another abandoned vehicle left in my yard! When you come to tow it away will yous bring some more of dem seasonings? They make me feel strange but I SO look forward to my next meal!" She looked out the window at the heads that were starting to poke up from their hiding places inside the car. "Oh tons of eyeballs! Tons of tongues! What a sweet season blend to eat with the son!"

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