Afternoon in the Meadow

A very short story about a man who talks to a rose petal as it floats in the wind.

Afternoon in the meadow I opened my eyes just in time to catch a beautiful, lonesome Rose Petal drifting in slow motion across the otherwise uninterrupted sky. The growing wind made it jump and dance and twirl in the air as a low chatter rustled from the surrounding plant life. I did not know the petal’s name.

“Julie,” I said to myself. “I’ve fixed my eyes on red, pink and white.” The off rhyme was unintentional, but I could do better.  Another gust of wind drove Julie out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t feel the grass I laid in until now, and when I turned my head it blocked my vision. I had to sit up to catch the rose petal once again. She was writing cursive in the air but I couldn’t read it. Then I had an idea.

“I wish I could leave you be, but you’re all that I can see.” I knew I could do better. It was a pun, too. Its only flaw was that it was untrue. Never in my life would I have wished to leave Julie, the wondrous Rose Petal dancing in the meadow. In fact, I wanted to join her. She was drifting away, after all.

So I hopped to my feet and skipped after Julie, jumping and twisting and flailing as best I could. Though in the back of my mind I knew I’d never dance as well as that Rose Petal.

Reviews

[Lusus Naturae]

I like this piece quite so, though I can not place my liking in anywhere specific. Perhaps the flower analogy in what appears to be a dream? I am fond of your writing.