She found it lurking in the back of the hall closet from her 1970s Stairway to Heaven save the whales days. With a sigh she puts it back into the dark recesses of the closet as her waist (after 2 kids and too many twinkies) will never see those days again.
Fast forward one year. While her skirt has been in the dark recesses of the closet the mung bean buttons have thirsted for WATER and AIR. Little does she know that her daughter, age 18, has been rooting through the closet. She found the skirt, determined it gross and shoved it back into the dark never knowing she cracked the buttons. MOISTURE and AIR have slowly seeped into the buttons allowing the mung beans to mutate, grow and spread their tendrils into the darker recesses of the closet. Slowly inch by inch the mung bean sprouts invade the hall closet enveloping a Pendleton suit from her 80s dress corporate days. Thirsty and hungry the mung beans slowly devour their way towards the front of the closet searching but not knowing for what they hunger.
Fast forward two years. The hall closet is dank, dark and flowing with life. The mung beans are barely hanging on. They've eaten all but several rayon dresses that have been drycleaned to within an inch of their life. The mung beans just can't tolerate the chemical stench embedded in the rayon and so they patiently wait, sometimes feasting on itself as an act of self preservation.
But wait! She is back. She looks into the closet, wrinkles her nose at the dank odor and says to herself, "it's time to get rid of this stuff." Slowly and carefully she removes the rayon dresses one by one remembering the occasions she has worn each one. The black one for Aunt Martha's funeral. The red one for that first disastrous date after her divorce. The blue one she wore for her first job interview after being a stay at home mom for 15 years. She sighs as she remembers those past events. She takes out that last rayon dress and shifts gears. For this dress is the one that held the promise of a new life. If only she had been able to bend a little but, but no. Time to stop sighing over the past and get on with it. The mung beans wait patiently. This is what they have hungered for. They only have to be a little more patient. Just a little longer. She returns to the closet and steps in. The mung beans strike enveloping her in their sprouts and muffling her cries pulling her into the dark recesses of the closet.
The children call her on the phone. There is no answer. Days go by and they become concerned. They make a trip to see if mom's okay. They find an empty house with nothing disturbed but 4 dresses sitting on the back of the couch and their mother's shoes just outside the hall closet. And there the mung bean button skirt hangs, waiting, plotting and hoping.
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