The Flower in Your Hand.
Beautiful sunrise.
The slip of a sun rose out from the rose coloured clouds slowly, like a young boy who had seen candied haw within his grasp, but dare not take it for fear of the disproving mother in the next room.
He sat up from the bed of dry grass he had been sleeping on and stretched slowly. The sweet taste of wine was still lingered in his mouth. There was another taste as well. Sweeter than the wine, sweeter than all the wines or fruit he had ever drunk or eaten.
He stirred besides him and shifted to curl up on his side. The dappled light danced around and on his body, but never dousing that glow of the halo upon his head. He curled to himself tightly, the cold of the morning was uncomfortable, and he, in his sleeping state, realized a warmth was gone from his grasp.
He touched his cheek slowly, running his fingers down, pushing a soft blue tendril away from the nose. He sniffled a little and turned his body, curling towards the warmth, like a growing shoot eager for the sun.
The closeness felt comfortable and a smile appeared on his lips as if he was dreaming something wonderful.
The wind blew as the sun rose higher into the sky. The clouds waltzed away with the wind, the leaves above them swayed with a soft rustle, the fragrant flowerlets of the tree floated down upon them. One drifted down slowly, a perfect specimen, and landed right onto his outstretched hand.
As he watched, the perfect flowerlet withered, its petals turning brown and brittle and they vanished into dust, flying away with the wind.
The sun rose to its zenith but he was still fast asleep, curled towards the warmth which he knew will always be there. He glanced at his sleeping form and gathered the remaining flowerlets. Silently, he opened up his hands and heaped the flowerlets into it, cupping his palms around them.
There was one more flowerlet, one that fell on the edge of the grass pallet, with a broken petal. He picked up that last one, without hesitation, laid a kiss upon the broken petal, and placed it atop the heap of violet.
In its mindless ballet, a lone cloud dared to sweep past the sun, shadowing everything for a moment. When the shadow passed, the wind blew across the grass and picked up that broken flower, carrying it over the waving green.
Author's ramblings
*g* I remember promising Ruby a guest fic … written for Negative Space. Oh well.. Hmm… this is what I call … a one page nonsense written at 1.15am in the morning. It is obvious, one of the characters is Fugen Shinjin. But the other? He could be anyone. -grins- And the picture painted of the broken petal? This is up to your interpretation. What moi did was just to paint the picture….the blurb is yours to write.
Then again .. I might do a analysis of it later, when it is not so late at night .. erh.. morning.
Beautiful sunrise.
The slip of a sun rose out from the rose coloured clouds slowly, like a young boy who had seen candied haw within his grasp, but dare not take it for fear of the disproving mother in the next room.
He sat up from the bed of dry grass he had been sleeping on and stretched slowly. The sweet taste of wine was still lingered in his mouth. There was another taste as well. Sweeter than the wine, sweeter than all the wines or fruit he had ever drunk or eaten.
He stirred besides him and shifted to curl up on his side. The dappled light danced around and on his body, but never dousing that glow of the halo upon his head. He curled to himself tightly, the cold of the morning was uncomfortable, and he, in his sleeping state, realized a warmth was gone from his grasp.
He touched his cheek slowly, running his fingers down, pushing a soft blue tendril away from the nose. He sniffled a little and turned his body, curling towards the warmth, like a growing shoot eager for the sun.
The closeness felt comfortable and a smile appeared on his lips as if he was dreaming something wonderful.
The wind blew as the sun rose higher into the sky. The clouds waltzed away with the wind, the leaves above them swayed with a soft rustle, the fragrant flowerlets of the tree floated down upon them. One drifted down slowly, a perfect specimen, and landed right onto his outstretched hand.
As he watched, the perfect flowerlet withered, its petals turning brown and brittle and they vanished into dust, flying away with the wind.
The sun rose to its zenith but he was still fast asleep, curled towards the warmth which he knew will always be there. He glanced at his sleeping form and gathered the remaining flowerlets. Silently, he opened up his hands and heaped the flowerlets into it, cupping his palms around them.
There was one more flowerlet, one that fell on the edge of the grass pallet, with a broken petal. He picked up that last one, without hesitation, laid a kiss upon the broken petal, and placed it atop the heap of violet.
In its mindless ballet, a lone cloud dared to sweep past the sun, shadowing everything for a moment. When the shadow passed, the wind blew across the grass and picked up that broken flower, carrying it over the waving green.
Author's ramblings
*g* I remember promising Ruby a guest fic … written for Negative Space. Oh well.. Hmm… this is what I call … a one page nonsense written at 1.15am in the morning. It is obvious, one of the characters is Fugen Shinjin. But the other? He could be anyone. -grins- And the picture painted of the broken petal? This is up to your interpretation. What moi did was just to paint the picture….the blurb is yours to write.
Then again .. I might do a analysis of it later, when it is not so late at night .. erh.. morning.