Plant's revenge

I love meat.

Give me meat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and I'll be happy.

So what am I doing here in the greenhouse?

I wiped my forehead. It is hot, humid and stuffy in the greenhouse. It seemed to me that I am in a tropic land soon the noon raindrops will fall thick and warm... Suddenly, as if they had heard my thoughts, the showers opened from above and fill the air with shards of hot water making it difficult to breathe.

I wanted to run away.

Too late!

Down the lane, my skinny wife appears. She walks on her matchstick legs, armed with a big smile of self-satisfaction, pleased she was able to overcome my resistance and bring me here. "Do not move. It'll stop in a minute." She said.

I blame Dr. Bezalel for this awkward situation. Is he really a doctor or a charlatan posing as a specialist?

Two months ago she went to his clinic and became a devout vegetarian.

Bezalel diet method includes refraining from eating meat. Two onions and tomato for breakfast, lettuce salad with green leaves from the incubator near his home, and fruit with yogurt for dinner. A strict diet under the supervision of the new diet guru.

My wife has a long history of moving from one guru to another. Everyone promises a weight loss of 20 pounds in two weeks as if she is not thin enough. After two weeks, and then another two weeks, and another... She manages to lose 2 pounds in a mere two months. Only to gain it back within the few days' breaks between one Guru and the next.

Dr. Bezalel said she had to bring me along to his Institute: "Diet is not about food alone. It is a way of life; it is an effort the whole family should do together."

Yeah right! He earns more if the whole family comes to the Institute.

My wife complies. She was rocking me every day, accusing that she cannot successfully lose weight because of me: "Come just for one day and you will fall in love with this way of life."

I gave in. Who can endure the pain and the tears of a woman who cannot get into clothes two sizes too small?

Now I'm going to sweat greenhouse, urged by my wife to pick tomatoes, pull some carrots, pick a cucumber, and cut them all into the salad. "Are you not hungry? Don't you like to eat a juicy, nutritious salad? "

Yes, I'm hungry, and I feel like eating a nutritious juicy steak.

"No, I'm not hungry," I said.

"You skipped breakfast. Here you'll get a delicious salad." She said and started to pull, pluck vegetables in the greenhouse.

In the greenhouse's sweaty silence, whispers and moans were heard, which soon formed words of despair and pain.

I looked around to see who it was. I saw nobody; we were alone in the greenhouse.

My wife has become tired and sat down to rest on the edge of the center well, under the dense bush. She looks with satisfaction at a variety of vegetables and leaves piled at her feet: "Well here we are, I am tired. I'll rest a little before, pulling a few carrots, and I'll cut a few leaves for decoration."

She leaned back, sinking into the soft branches, and closes her eyes.

Sure she was tired after walking 5 miles obeying the commandments Dr. Bezalel when in her stomach were only a few leaves of the lettuce she had eaten for breakfast.

I stood there, looking with disgust at the pile of plants slaughtered, wiping the sweat off my brow, wondering how I got married to a girl with such obsessions.

Now the whispers could be heard more clearly: "Here is the cruel uprooter, who cuts off our lives at their peak!"

And before my amazed eyes, the branches closed around her, pulling my wife into the well.