Breadcrumb #673

HARRIET CLEAL

At first she thought it was a trick of her imagination, but after noticing it shrink three days in a row, she had to investigate. She was right. It was definitely getting smaller. While she’d never had a green thumb, she knew that’s not how plants were supposed to grow. 

The congestion of leaves thinned into unsheltered patches where fragments of leaves had disappeared. Dolores brushed the tips delicately against her hands as if grasping at cotton candy. Parting the branches carefully, she spotted a small sliver of green that seemed to be twitching: a perfectly-camouflaged caterpillar. It was a species she’d never seen before. 

She never liked to boast about it, but she was quite the amateur lepidopterist. Her passion started on her birthday almost fifteen years ago when her favorite aunt gifted her a butterfly on a stick, explaining that it was a hat pin. With an intelligence beyond her years, she took a moment to pause after she opened it. She spirited away the question and sat patiently in the waiting room between her mind and her mouth (“What does a twelve year old want with a hat pin?”) and replacing it with, “How did you know butterflies are my favorite animal?” For the next couple of rounds of Christmases and birthdays, all the adults in her life showered her with butterfly-themed gifts, relieved at having an answer to the quandary of finding an appropriate present for a girl on the cusp of adolescence. At that point, she was left with two choices: admit the lie or learn to love butterflies. By then, already in too deep, she dived wholeheartedly into the latter.

Since then, she’d wanted to study butterflies full time. However, when the time came to make life choices to swerve towards an eventual career path she knew she wouldn’t be able to go through her studies without hearing her father whispering “financial security” over her shoulder every day. Instead, she had opted for the marginally safer career of journalism. 

In any case, she knew enough to realize that this was something special. She carefully trimmed away a few leaves so that she could glance at it while flicking through her heaviest butterfly encyclopedia, pausing every so often to bring the page up to the plant and compare the picture with the gorgeous beast that had somehow ended up in her flat.

All those caterpillars concertinaed from the pages of the encyclopedia into her mind, unfurling from the cocoon of sleep into bright butterflies. They flitted around her dreams, alighting on her thoughts to take nectar. Only one remained a stubborn pupae, refusing her efforts to identify it. She woke up knowing how to get an answer.

It was only a couple of blocks away, but she called ahead to the Natural History Museum who assured her they’d be delighted to help her identify the species. As her beautiful bug seemed to be enjoying its floral feast so much, she took the whole bush. She didn’t even know where the plant itself had come from. It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere after the original fiddle-leaf fig had withered and died, this vibrant vegetation rising in place of the shriveled trunk like a green phoenix. 

“They flitted around her dreams, alighting on her thoughts to take nectar.”

Leaving the apartment, she opted for the stairs to avoid the elevator's temperamental tendency of shuddering to a stop when it reached the ground floor. She felt down each step with the back of her heel, trying to summon the skills she’d gained from hours of her childhood spent balancing books on her head. Whenever her neighbor, a girl named Tabitha, came round they would race each other across the kitchen trying not to let them fall off. Dolores would rarely win (she suspected this was the reason why Tabitha was so keen to play) and she was convinced that Tabitha hid a perfectly flat head under her thick bush of hair. However, on the Advanced Level - the stairs - Dolores would win on occasion through her combination of patience and trying to make Tabitha giggle. She channeled that patience now as she shuffled slowly and steadily to the museum. 

On arrival, she was led past the petrified forest, under the pterodactyl skeleton, along the endangered animals corridor, taking a sharp right turn into the secret guts of the museum where she was introduced to a scientist named Robert. She proudly held out the plant pot, careful to turn it so the caterpillar was on the side facing him. She knew he’d spotted it as his eyes lit up immediately. 

“Woah,” he breathed. “This certainly is a rare one.”

Even though she had left it with him to investigate, the caterpillar remained on her mind as the days passed. She tried to write but every article was another breadcrumb back to butterflies. That story about how to progress in the modern workplace was really just the perfect vehicle for a metaphor about metamorphosis. The digital etiquette think piece she was working on would surely benefit from some analysis of a caterpillar's dating life. Maybe the feature on the importance of getting credit at work could do with a description of the rules on who gets to name a new species of butterfly. She wondered if hers was a new species and if she would get to name it. Papilio dolores had quite a ring to it... 

In the middle of her daydreaming, Robert called to promise her that “the little one is blossoming!” Surely it couldn’t have completed its metamorphosis into a butterfly yet? He must mean that it had coiled up in a cocoon. Still, she relished the idea that she might be able to see its full form already and rushed over, her mind oscillating between pure excitement and fruitless attempts to temper her expectations. 

Robert was waiting for her at the entrance to the lab and opened the door with the air of a magician revealing his trick’s finale. 

“Look at these flowers!” He waited for her to share his excitement. Nothing. He tried again. “I just thought you’d like to see. We’re still not there yet, but these will really help us identify what species it is.”

“The flowers?”

“Yes,” he was confused. “That’s why you brought in the plant…”

“But...? Is the caterpillar…?”

“Oh,” he took on what he thought was a reassuring tone, “Ness - my girlfriend - has a fear of bugs so I know how it is. It looked like it had laid some eggs as well! But don’t you worry. I killed the bastards.”

• • •

Breadcrumb #672

KOSCINA RENAUD-TATE

My imagination twiddles like two thumbs
Creating stories
A fabrication of thoughts
painting vivid pictures
A Picasso of some sort
Blurs of browns and pinks
Such intricate detail 

See, I've never seen the hands
I couldn't tell you their color
But my brown skin must mirror
The past
Reflections reflected through me 

See, I never felt these hands
Were they soft and smooth?
A dainty little lady
Or tough skin?
From hard work and spankings
Were they wrinkle?
Crumbled newspaper
Old and precious hands holding stories of the past
Worn from the activities they endured 

See, I never smelt these hands
Soft scents of cocoa butter
Linger after hours
After pinching of cheeks
and cupping faces
Sweet kisses and
praises of affection 

Nope I've never seen, felt, or smelt these hands
They didn't care for me
Didn't nurse me back to health
or teach me right from wrong
But they taught someone else how to care for me
Just a pretty picture painted in my head 

These imaginary hands I always wished to know
A lesson learned to say the least
As I learned to never take small things forgranted
What I wouldn't give

To be in Grandma’s hands

• • •

Breadcrumb #671

JOSH DALE

There is a panda on the counter of the pizza shop. I double-take. It is a baby, but a panda, nonetheless.

“Whoa, that’s not something you see every day!” I say, stifling a giggle as the panda munches on raw dough.

The only man behind the counter turns from his pizza rolling to me, staring at me with thick furrowed eyebrows. They cross into a ‘V’.

“Yeah, what about ‘em?” 

I shy away at his accusation, defaulting to his rotund, grease-stained tee.

“I’m sorry, sir. It is cute, though.”

As if he was holding back a geyser, the man exhales through his nose, his salt and pepper mustache wavers.

“Ok, kid, you’re right. You don’t see this every day. I’m actually the only place with one.”

He thumbs behind him, showing off a frame on the wall. On one hand, he has keys. Cradled in his other arm, is the panda. Next to the photo, is a newspaper clipping MAN AND PANDA EXCITE TOWN WITH NEW PIZZERIA. The shop looks ancient though, walls lined in wood paneling and the countertops a yellowed marble. 

“I used to love pizza shops as a kid. A lot where I grew up.”

“The shop looks ancient though, walls lined in wood paneling and the countertops a yellowed marble.”

“Yeah? Rememba’ the names? I may know ‘em.”

I shake my head. The names and aesthetics were forgotten but the tastes were still present.

“What pie suits ya fancy?” the man continued, arms akimbo.

My eyes observe all the pizza on display. Some gooey cheese, tangy pepperoni, hearty meat lovers, and even a zesty taco pizza.

“Could I have a slice of taco and meat lovers’, please?”

The panda mews as its jaw opens wide and then shuts on the last glob.

“Comin’ right up. Here, I’ll throw in a drink,” he says, sliding a fountain cup over the glass. I snatch it, making the panda stare at me. Its little brown eyes go right through me. I pour a coke from the fountain.

“So, it’ll be $5 okay, buddy?” he says, pounding the keys on the register. A green 5.40 blips up. I hand him all the singles in my wallet, refuse the change. I note the hand grenade sitting on a wooden plaque saying, “COMPLAINT DEPARTMENT PICK A NUMBER!” As if there aren’t enough odd things here already. 

“Are you sure?” he says. “You never know when you may need—” He counts on one hand. “Two sixty.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” I say. “Can I, maybe, pet the panda?”

He doesn’t respond, just looks to the panda, then to me, then back to the panda. It stares at him, reaching out its paw.

“Sure, sure. Right here, on the very top o’ the head,” he says, pointing. 

I take my time, holding the back near its snout like I would a dog. It takes one big sniff, then backs away. So, I go for it, lightly scratching its head, ending with a pat. It feels like a living cotton ball attached to a Brillo pad. It growls low and I giggle.

“Oh, that’s a good boy!” he says, massaging the nape of its neck. 

I nearly forget the pizza until the smell of taco beef and sausage wafts from the oven. He slides them out with index finger and thumb, catches them with two paper plates underneath.

“Thanks again, buddy,” he says with a faint smile. It’s hard to see it with the mustache, but his lips shift, curve upward even.

I grab some extra napkins to sop up the grease and sit down in the empty shop. The television above the drink coolers has National Geographic on. I catch the baby panda angling toward it when the elephants come into frame.

**

I finish the slice of taco pizza and a large group of people come in. There are at least four kids, accompanied by a set of parents. They have balloons and cake in tow. The children make a collective, ‘ooh’ as they spot the panda, now sitting on a throw rug. The man snaps his fingers and the panda rolls forward onto its front legs. A chorus of claps ensue. I approach the meat lovers’ slice but it’s lukewarm now. I pick off the sausage, pop them into my mouth, and roll the remainder of it into the soggy paper plates. The parents line the counter to look at the menu. I hear the owner say, “Yeah, I’m not sure if I can keep him all that long. Once he grows into the adult size—”. I sneak out before he gets the chance to say goodbye.

I slide the wad of waste and ice-filled cup into a nearby trashcan and take a breath of the crisp autumn air. I reach my car, fire it up, and leave the strip mall. I should’ve asked the man his name. I should’ve asked what the panda’s name was, too. In case I wanted to see it again, maybe it would remember me.

My phone buzzes in the cupholder. It’s my mom. It takes only a couple of words before I choke up.

“What was dad’s favorite pizza?” I say to a long, voiceless pause.

• • •

Breadcrumb #670

PATRICK MACKENDY

Sweat-soaked. Dress shirt, but a towel now.
These calloused hands. Nearly surge to higher level now.
A boy is young, but the day is too.
“Ughk,” he grunted.
*Silence*, the boulder was a mute.
A technicolor opal, metallic rinds; onyx enshrined.
Its nothing was his everything.
“How long have I been here?”
Its purpose was his pilgrimage
“How high can I go?”
“Out of my hands now.”
“I am the seed, the shepherd sows.”
He juts onward and upward, barely shaking the stone.
Again.
The boy won’t break on his own.
Again.
The boy will make it to the end..
Again!
The one who ascends, has claimed the ascent.
AGAIN!
Thunderstruck pebbles and dumbstruck awe, make strange bedfellows.
“No.”
The molded earth wakes, the rock quakes, the sound takes him by surprise.
The stone doesn’t quite bisect, as it crumbles from side to side.
He tumbles with the shifting ground. It’s tilt, no favors lent.
At the bottom again, past the smoke, where the fallen went.
But they caught him.
Hands of warmth, and arms of grace.
“Who are you?”
Eyes of joy. Tears on their face.
“I fell.”
Smiles that caress.
“I failed.”
“No,” said a Woman.
“You did your very best.”

• • •

Breadcrumb #669

STEPHANIE STEPHAN

From the archives of the Department of Occult Investigations: Transcription of video titled “LOOKS THAT KILL - Makeup Tutorial” posted by LadyDeathX0x on February 25th at 7:30pm

LadyDeathX0x: Hey Ghouls and Goblins! Welcome back to my channel. So in today’s video we’re going to do something a little different. A lot of you have been requesting that I do a tutorial for my Bedroom Tour video look. So I thought today it would be fun to show you a behind the scenes peek at my makeup routine. So let’s get started!

[01:16] So this is a really versatile look. It’s perfect for going out with friends, but you can tone it down for the office. I wear it a lot when I’m out collecting, and I get so many compliments on it. People, like, literally die the first time they see this look.

[02:14] You’ll want to start with a clean face. Go ahead and prime your skin. My skin is super dry, so I start with a thin application of tallow…rub that in. Then I move on to foundation. I like to use Spirits of Saturn, which is a ceruse based formula. It’s pretty easy to find online, but feel free to use what works best for you. Mercury treatments are really big right now, so that’s another option. But if your skin is really sensitive, just go with arsenic wafers. 

[05:27] So next we’re going to move on to the eyes. Prime those lids. I am ob-sessed with the Soul Sucker pallet right now. I use it every day. As you can see, it has a ton of pretty shades…some greens…some grays…the first shade we’re going to dip into is “Bone-Flower.” I’m going to apply this all over my lid…and bring it up to the brow...this is going to be your base. Next I’m going to take a little bit of “Lethe”…I’ll put some on my hand so you can see it…it looks almost black at first, but when it picks up the light it has metallic flecks of blue and silver…I just love the shine on that. I’m going right into my crease with it. Don’t be afraid to bring that up towards the brow too for some added drama…you know me. I’m all about the drama. [Laughs]  

[08:42 incoherent whimpering]

[08:54] Quick story time. I’m still sort of new to the makeup world. It’s something I’ve known about for, like, a thousand years, but I didn’t start incorporating it into my daily rituals until recently. I think of my vanity as my beauty alter, because it’s where I start my morning. It gives me an opportunity to center myself, and really cultivate the energy that I need for the day. Before getting into makeup I was in a really dark place. I think everyone goes through that time in their life where they look in the mirror and they don’t recognize themselves, and makeup is a way to express yourself, or even reinvent yourself. I like to think of it as finding your true face. 

“I think of my vanity as my beauty alter, because it’s where I start my morning.”

[10:06 chair scuffing] 

[10:08] Wet your brush. I’m using an N19 round brush. I’m just going to grab “Queen” and pack it into my inner corner…for a pop of gold…it adds this kind of sexy…grackle eye vibe. Now we’ll finish up with black liner.

[11:31] Speaking of grackles…It’s time for lashes! These are real grackle feathers. All of them came from birds who died of natural causes. Look at that gorgeous color…midnight blue…what I’ve done is cut a strip of vane away from the feather…you want sort of a crescent shape. And you’re going to take a needle—I’ve already run this one through a flame to sterilize it—and you’re going to thread the needle and just carefully…sew the feathers onto the edge of your eye lid…like this. It takes some practice to get it right. The first time I tried my hands were shaking like crazy. 

[15:00 banging] 

[16:06] Sometimes I get criticized. People make snarky comments like, “Oh, I guess beauty really is pain,” or  “Are you really going to go out looking like that?” and I’m like. Girl. Watch me. [laughs] Sometimes you’ve gotta tear your old self down, you know?…beauty is power…Okay! One more eye to go... 

[21:39] For the lips…this part is super easy. Take some pomegranate seeds and hit them with your mortar and pestle. If you don’t have a mortar and pestle, just crush them up with your finger, back of a spoon…whatever. We don’t judge here. Dab the juice on your lips. Really saturate them…so cute. 

The last thing I’m going to do is add my trademark.

[22:42 muffled screaming] 

This little bottle is Belladonna. I like to do this last because it’s really strong and you want to see what you’re doing. So two drops in each eye…and you don’t want it to run, so tilt your head back and just, like, suck it back into your skull. 

[23:01 scratching] 

And…as you can see, it dilates your eyes and gives you that dewy, oblivion look. Done! There you have it. It takes some effort, but it’s definitely worth it. Now I want to show you guys what kinds of things you can do with this look. [steps off camera]

[24:08 Camera pans to the right. A girl appears on screen. She is sitting in a chair. Her wrists are bound. She is gagged. The camera zooms in. The girl is struggling. She rocks her body side to side. It appears she is trying to escape. Something off camera catches her eye. She continues to struggle, but appears to be transfixed by what she is looking at.]

[26:36 loud ripping noise] 

Girl: [26:38 All noise stops. All struggling stops. Her pupils dilate. They overtake her irises. She smiles.] 

LadyDeathX0x: [27:06 off camera] Thanks for watching everyone! Let me know what you thought of this look in the comments, and don’t forget to like and subscribe for more delicious content!

NOTE: 16 hours after it was posted, this video was deleted by the creator.

• • •