The Hidden Life of Things

The Power of Miscommunication

The Story of Nail and Berry

There was a garden snail called Nail who lived happily ever forever below the rose bush.

As we all know snails are slow, observant beings who enjoy the journey rather than the final destination as more often than not they simply forget what their final destination is and just go on. Nail being a true member of its kind was no different. He rarely reached the place he would set forth to on time or at all, for that matter but he wouldn’t let his chronic tardiness ruin his good humor.

On the contrary — Nail always smiled and took his time to revel in each swirling shape, the shades of colors, and the flicking movement of life around him. From the curious baby grass through the ever-changing puddle of muddy water around the forgotten rusty shovel to the colorful fruits popping every summer — Nail would take everything in with the deliberate tenderness of his slow nature.

Looking at Nail it is so easy to grasp the practical usefulness of being happy regardless of the circumstances. It is recommendable to rejoice your heart, not to discontent it. For it is in the contentment that people find their passion and power. Discontent brings only disappointment and emotional havoc. And yet, the practicality of this delightful condition proves to be elusive to most of us.

Berry, the strawberry was a newcomer to the garden. Although she was still unaccustomed to her surroundings, she already knew she didn’t belong there.

Usually, at the beginning of the peak season, she would wake up in a well-air-conditioned, lit by bright artificial sun, spacious room, among others of her kin, looking as presentable as possible. She would be regularly misted and dusted by silent individuals in green aprons. Their cold, damp hands would always turn her ruddiest side towards the passersby in the hope to capture their attention as a red street light at a busy intersection. Berry would sit there, displaying forced maturity when in fact her ripeness would be a long way to come. She was taught to pride herself as one of those very important persons who by virtue of producing more rapidly red pigment, had better chances to realize their strawberry potential. Sadly, their potential was never truly realized despite all the misting and turning.

However, this season was different. Berry woke up in that strange place. It had no air-conditioning. It was dirty and humid. And, the worst of all — she was placed outside, straight on the stinking ground. Berry lacked Nail’s practical skill to find enjoyment in any situation so she found herself in the unpleasant situation of feeling utter discomfort and increasing outrage.

And, to add absurdity to her outrage, there was an obnoxious, shell-sliding creature grinning in her face from a cherry-sized distance.

Nail was admiring the newcomer’s blush cheeks and green hairstyle with his usual expression of universal acceptance. But the frustration in her eyes and the raw disdain on her lips couldn’t escape his attentive eyes — and his pure loving soul got quietly confused.

He slid along with heavy thoughts hanging like stormy clouds over his sunny mind. Was his snailiness too snaily for the newcomer? He had never thought that being so consistently and fully himself would cause someone’s discomfort! It was awfully selfish of him to invade other people’s personal space by showing them broad-spectrum friendliness.

Probably, he thought, he should start practicing social distancing and general disregard for everything and everyone so nobody gets offended by his toxic kindness! Despite the isolating nature of this realization, he couldn’t be more thankful to the newcomer for opening his mind.

Nail was a hopelessly nice person. And it was a major flaw of his character.

Meanwhile, Berry, soaked in self-pity and worries about her ruined potential, noticed her body changing. The texture of her flesh became well-defined. Her color turned crimson all over her plump forms. Her sugary substance grew exponentially with each touch of the gentle sunbeams. A sweet, unfamiliar aroma was oozing through her pores and it took Berry some time to realize it was her own healthy scent that was filling up the air around her. She was effectively transforming into the perfect strawberry she had heard was theoretically possible but practically unattainable in the air-conditioned space she used to live. She felt so full of herself — in the good, self-loving, constructive way. This place was the rumored strawberry heaven, she was convinced.

And that sliding someone who was grinning at her earlier didn’t seem that annoying now. Where was he? Berry wanted to show him her startling new appearance. Because what was the worth of her blooming self if there were no eyes to appreciate it?

Oh, there he was in the distance — sliding slowly and aimlessly as always. Berry called him. She called him again.

Nail had decided to adopt his new less intrusive modus operandi — effective immediately. Being too attentive and polite had proven to cause strain to at least one person and it was one person too many for Nail. His one goal was to live in harmony with the surrounding world.

So when he heard the newcomer’s intense calls to him he turned his head and slid the other way. Nail cordially ignored her for the sake of her own good. She would be better off without his sincere but abrasive appreciation, he convinced himself.

The illustration is made by the author’s left hand. The author herself has nothing to do with it.