Join for FREE | Take the Tour Lost Password?
[x]

deviantART

 


Tulips grew at her mother’s 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 mother’s favorite thing in the world. As mother’s 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 mother’s hair has ceased falling. Tulips peer insolently from gaps in the stone. She saw them for what they were, and loved them.
:iconbeyondthemist:

Author's Comments

An attempt at prose-poetry.

Comments


love 0 0 joy 0 0 wow 0 0 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 0 0 neutral 0 0
:iconemosadface:
Really puts an image in your head. I love it.

Details

January 7
666 bytes

Statistics

1
2 [who?]
37 (0 today)
2 (0 today)

Site Map