Mel sighed, staring at the barren cracked earth of the backyard. Still exactly as dead as when she’d moved in. Only it wasn't! There near the back fence, a little stalk had pushed through the dried brecciated crust. She was out the door in a flash.
It was an iridescent electric green. On closer inspection it was very strange without any leaves. She was struck with a sudden urge to uproot the little tendril; before she could touch it, it grew an inch with a trembling pulse unlike anything she’d ever seen. Taken aback Mel retreated to the house, dismissing her observation.
The next day Mel looked out the window to see the whole backyard filled with lush iridescent growth: tendrils, soft grasses, blossoms, and in the center of the yard a huge purple pod like bud. Mel was transfixed by it, drawn like a moth to flame. She walked outside, it quivered. It felt smooth and rubbery to her hands.
Mel was snapped from her reverie, but it was too late the little tendrils all around her had sneakily ensnared her ankles. She was drawn into the enveloping slick rubbery pod to be shaped by nature’s will.