Ok, this is my first story, so be nice. Ummm, my friend Kate finally poked and prodded me until I posted it. And she helped me out a lot in writing it. Enough with the psychobabble, on to the story!
Orchid
I stood there, watching each person walk up to the flowers and take their own selection. The funeral had been beautiful, and long, but nice all the same. I watched everybody take their flower. You could tell everything about a person's life by the flowers they chose. The old women would take something small and blue, usually a blue-bell. The little girls would all take something huge, and gawdy like a daisy. The wife of the deceased always took a rose, not a white one, not a yellow one, but a red one. The men, if they did take one, would always take something tall and rod-like. Typical. The middle aged wives usually took a carnation or a marigold.
Then there were the strange ones. The ones that didn't fit into a group. One woman took a lily, not the white ones that other people liked, but a rusty orange one. And not only did she take that, but she took a single leaf, it looked like a reed. You could tell she was an eccentric, a black sheep. The woman who had seen the world, and was looked down upon for it. And after that I noticed a man walk up and take a mum. Strange really, mums aren't that pretty, just colorful. He was the type that kept to himself, and had few friends. He would most likely dry this flower, and keep it to remind him of one of the few friends he had.
As I walked up to the flowers I looked them over, and inspected each and every one. I wanted to take one that would reflect my personality upon the world. Not something big. Not something small. Not something bright. Not something dark. I looked and I looked, but nothing held my life in it's petals. That is until I came to the end. I saw the perfect flower, it was purple, and elegant. I went to reach for it, but I noticed a hand attached to it. A familiar hand. As I looked up into blue eyes framed by flaxen hair, he smiled and said, "Orchid."
I smiled back at Dylan, and took it from him. He knew which flower was me the entire time. He knows me on a deeper level than I know myself. He knew me inside out. Knew the endearing qualities and the faults. He knew the words I never said and what I was feeling when even I didn't. He put his arm around my waist and whispered in my ear, "let's go home." And we did.
Did you like it? Did you love it? Did you hate it? I need to know people, so please review. And I was thinking of maybe adding more chapters instead of this being just a one-shot. It's terribly short. Tell me what you think!