The everlasting spring nurtures the densely scattered flowers of the plain; the tracts of chartreuse, mint, jade, and slightly dulled emerald are sprinkled in layers of shivering colors undulating in the breaths of wind.
Each blossom I tweeze out of the earth I fleetingly admire before I deposit it inside my wicker basket. In a short while, the amassed blooms verged on overwhelming it. As I reached for another, the ground shudders at the abrupt striking of thundering hooves.
Pitch-black stallions hurtled towards me. Paralyzed by fright, the dark man bestride the chariot scooped me up by an arm before he plummeted into the cleaved fissure. Upon entering I am thrust into a world of night, my flowers snatched away by the rapidity as the crevasse summarily adjoins to its former state.
Stuttering to a stop, I nearly pummel my head against the floor prior to my already undignified release. Gathering my wits about me, I am greeted by to my disbelief and immediate abhorrence, Hades.
After unsuccessfully endeavoring to call out to my mother and companions, and then grasping the fact I couldn’t return, I was left with only one regret. I wish I held on to those flowers.