Tulips grew at her mothers house. They formed a central circle in the small garden where she used to sit when she escaped. She hated them because they seemed her mothers favorite thing in the world. As mothers hair grew thin and gray, as men came and went, each sitting awhile to smoke among the flowers, the garden remained a fine circle of pink. Now, the garden is as overgrown as Eden men no longer stop to sit, and mothers hair has ceased falling. Tulips peer insolently from gaps in the stone. She saw them for what they were, and loved them. |
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