This picture isn’t exactly accurate to the prompt, but this picture was a part of what inspired the story that followed. This story has a special place in my heart and has yet to be realized fully. . . but I definitely foresee something very special to come in the future from this little snippet. Consider it a prologue of sorts.
She stepped inside dark shop, having to shove the door hard with her foot to get it to grudgingly budge with a loud squawk. The light from the doorway splayed across the dirty room and brought the dancing dust motes to light. Tears not only threatened to spill out of her eyes but also to choke her throat. She never thought she would come back, and seeing it, despite the fact that it was nothing like it was when she was little, still made the memories and pictures flood her heart and mind with such emotion that she couldn’t help but feel the tears well.
In her mind, the dirty, old, rustiness of the room was replaced by one full of light and flowers. She could even see her mother, yellow ruffled apron around her waist as she artfully placed flowers into a neat bouquet of beauty. Her father was behind the desk, tapping at his calculator and scratching his head with his inky hands, leaving smudges across his forehead.
“What are you making mama?” asked a little voice. It was herself. It was as if she were seeing it from an outside view. She saw a little girl, tawny hair braided into pigtails with the unruly cowlick right in the front throwing wisps of hair over her eyes. It was herself when she had been little. Barely nine years old.
Her mother turned and she caught her breath at the site of her mother’s smile. The light of it almost blinded her aching heart. “Why, I’m making a little bouquet of sunshine darlin’.”
“How do you do that? I want sunshine!” Squealed the little girl, looking with longing eyes at the sprays of yellow flowers of all kinds. “Teach me?”
“Of course, darling. I am going to take a few sunflowers for the center of the bouquet, an anchor to the whole bunch. Then some verbena, baby’s breath to contrast with the heartiness of the sunflowers. Laurel leaves and even some yellow zinnia’s. Then, I’ll line the bouquet with some more leaves and a few tiny sprigs of baby’s’ breath. There.” She held the bouquet to her daughter’s height so she could see the whole thing. “A bunch of sunshine.”
“It’s so pretty! Look daddy! It’s as big as my head!” Little Alina took the bouquet and ran to her father’s desk with it. On the way there, she tripped, and suddenly her vision was dark and sprayed with sparkling glass as it flew through the air. A terror filled scream filled the air and blue and red lights cut the darkness with a harshness that blinded her.
With a gasp Alina pulled herself from the memories that sought to drown her. They could be so beautiful one moment, but then they turned on her with jaws of pain like those of a ravenous wolf, ready for its next meal. She absent-mindedly rubbed her arms where the scars from broken glass still remained. They burned with the memory of the pain that had been hers for so long.
She needed to bring this place back. Back to its beauty, back to its purpose. It’s purpose of warming the hearts around it. She needed something that would take the bad memories away and leave only the good ones. Memories of beauty and of joy.
A flower is a key that unlocks a place of beauty inside the heart of the receiver.
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What do you think? I think it is hard to put into words what this little piece invokes in my heart. I can’t wait to write and create the rest of this story.
By God’s Grace,