The Gigantic Furniture of Monsieur Clare

Monsieur Clare made the biggest furniture in the city, and he made them out of grass. This may sound strange, and uncomfortable, and likely to stain your clothes, but it was a special kind of grass. It was a kind of grass that only Monsieur Clare could grow because only he had the seeds and the knowledge about how to plant them. He tended this grass on his own plots of land scattered around in the city, and from above these small gardens struck the eye as emeralds.

Since the city was rather crowded, he had to buy these lots in random locations that just happened to be empty. Everyday Monsieur Clare took the 39 bus because this route would take him close to every one of his lots; it was never more than a 10 minute walk. After he got the deeds for the lots, he would have to manually re-sod the ground. This was time-consuming, but Monsieur Clare liked doing things on his own. Besides, it made sure that the soil was perfect for his grass, and that was of utmost importance. You see, the grass he used for his furniture was very exotic. When it came out of the ground it was hard and wiry. It would cut your hands if you were not careful. It was the type of dark green that looked like it harbored a grudge against you. Once harvested, however, this grass became soft but with a bit of give; it became like a plush pillow. The angry green, dried, mellowed out into a beautiful verdant green.  Clumped together a certain way, the grass would stick and retain shape. With this, Monsieur Clare formed giant furniture. His furniture was as if a 30 foot man with a large set of shears trimmed topiaries to resemble chairs, futons, beds, sofas, couches, and ottomans.

His furniture was in very high demand. It was artistic, yet comfortable. Placed outside, it gave houses a doll-like charm and played with the viewer's perspective just enough to be quaint but modern. It was sleek and fashionable. Only the richest could afford it, because the grass was so rare, but Monsieur Clare was a generous man and donated many sets of furniture to schools, libraries, and public parks. The grass, once dried and formed, was also almost impossible to tear apart with bare hands. It was as if Monsieur Clare had been able to create something indestructible.

But then there came to be bred a kind of new bug, a malicious one that targeted plants. It was meant to target weeds and other undesirables like poison ivy and stinging nettle, but like scientific experiments go, this bug escaped and mutated. The first place it found once it broke free from the lab was Monsieur Clare's green plots of land because they shone from above like emeralds. It was hungry, so it began to eat. It ate a corner of the lot and felt full, so it went to sleep. This sounds not so bad, but in reality it is. You see, this bug doesn't just eat the stems of plants, it eats everything, roots and all. The next day, the bug woke up and continued eating. It developed a taste for the grass, and soon it would eat nothing but the grass. Because of this, the bug's highly impressionable digestive system soon became unable to digest anything but this special kind of grass.


The bug was also parthogenetic, which meant it could reproduce on its own. Even worse, it was small enough to be considered microscopic.

Monsieur Clare discovered the brown patches in his gardens, and in vain he tried to get his grass to re-grow. He tried everything he knew, but nothing helped. The brown patches spread and spread until every one of this lots was contaminated. At first he thought it was mold, then he thought it was rot. Then he thought the pH of the soil was off, possibly from the acid rain or from the water system. He did not know about this bug, because the labs kept it a secret. Monsieur Clare became very distressed. His furniture production slowed, and then stopped. He could not keep up with the bugs.

The bugs also ate the dried grass, just like you and I would eat grapes but also raisins. They burrowed small holes in all of Monsieur Clare's furniture in the city. It was the strangest thing: the furniture would become lighter and airier, bit by bit, like an eraser rubbing away a drawing, so soon there would only be a glimpse of the grass that was the framework of the chair, and then nothing, like the furniture had merely vanished into thin air. It was most mysterious, and some were lucky enough to catch it on video.

Monsieur Clare took to drink. There was nothing else for him to do; he had loved his job and he had loved his exotic plant. It had taken him years to cultivate it, and he had nurtured the stalks like children. Now they withered under an invisible force, and he could do nothing to protect them. It was rumored that one night he left his house, chose a direction, and just started walking. He walked out of his neighborhood and out of the city, and no one knows where he is now.

His gardens turned back into vacant lots, and his furniture left behind only the space they occupied. Soon, there was nothing left but the memory that Monsieur Clare's gigantic furniture once existed.