I Brought You Frankincense Vine Novels & Stories

I aim for the vines. That tree. That weird-ass tree with the figure-eight spiral of vines wrapping up the trunk like nature's own neon sign. That's my anchor, my breadcrumb, if I hit that, I hit the trail, if I hit the trail, I hit the door. If I hit the door, I'm free.

She didn’t argue. The alley smelled like damp brick and cigarette smoke. The cassette was cold in my hand, as if it had been left in the freezer. This one was labeled J-0. Zero. I brought it inside. Beverly didn’t ask to hold it. She just stared at it like it might bite. “You want to listen?” I asked. She didn’t answer. “I think we have to,” I added. “Why else would it show up? It’s for me.” “No,” she whispered. “It’s for them.”

A subtle scent wafted out—soft, yet deeply alluring, evoking a memory both familiar and distant. Camille inhaled deeply, her body stirring awake. "This is..." she exclaimed, her voice laced with excitement and surprise, "Miel de Tilleul? Linden blossom honey?" "Exactly," Antoine nodded, a glimmer of pride and amusement lighting up his eyes at Camille's reaction. "Linden blossom honey essence, handcrafted by Laurent from the blossoms along the Seine in the summer of 1998."

Good idea, Zara. “Now try climbing”, I say walking to a pine tree. It’s a needle like green about 1 to 11 inches long. It didn’t look edible. I think, moving deeper into the forest. My effort is not futile when I sight a vine tree. Lots in fact. There are oxford grapes and the dark purple ones. I hastily step forward and lift my knee to a branch. It seemed soft and I placed my leg on another one which was quite okay. I reached to pluck it but heard a hissing sound. I withdrawed my hand as I looked up. It was a snake with its tongue out, ready to bite me if I made any wrong step.

“Frank, this is creepy. You need to fight the drugs in your system. Purge them.” He continues to walk slowly toward me as if he can’t hear me. I remember what he said. Don’t run. So I walk up to him and embrace him. He grips one of my hands. I cup his face. I pickup an odd scent on him. Herbal, bitter, and metallic. “Wormwood.” I know that smell. It doesn’t get humans high, but it is used in absinthe which does get humans high.