the flower shop

Based loosely off a dream I had last night (or this morning, I can’t be sure). Unfinished, for now.

The Flower Shop
Everything she felt was pain. Crying uncontrollably, she held out her arms, reaching for something, anything to take her away from the agony she was experiencing. She couldn’t escape the sounds, the smell, the sights around her. Red and green, blue and yellow and silver mixed together as the world cried with her. The loud, wretched noises shook the air around her. And she was terrified, unmoving.

She was growing weaker, falling limp as she was being drawn into a pool of glowing green. Voices whispered her name, mocked her, laughing at her fruitless attempts to escape.

A gloved hand reaced for hers. Grasping it tightly, she somehow managed to surface from underneath the heavy emerald sea. A smile,  a strand of shining hair brushed her cheek. The simple gesture gave her a new resolve, and with slender fingers, she reached behind her head for the ribbon that sat at the top of her braid, and the beautiful stone that resided in it.

Despite the friendly smile that beamed upon her, despite the delicate hair that shone with the reflection of the green below, pale pink lips parted into a silent scream.

It was gone.

* * * * * * *

A young woman jolted upright in her bed. Her heart was pounding and she was shaking from head to toe. Green eyes blinked in the semi-darkness.

She turned to her dresser. In the shadows she could see her ribbon and it’s precious cargo was still there.

It was only a dream. Only a dream…

Heaving a rather uncomfortable sigh of relief, she climbed out of bed, tiptoeing across the cold floor towards her window. She pulled the curtains aside, revealing a beautiful garden below, and a hint of sunlight that managed to slip through the cracks in the grey clouds that loomed above.

A trace of a smile formed on her face as she turned away from the window. No matter if it rained, it was going to be a lovely day. She reached for the robe she had left on her chair, and slipped it on over her nightgown. She of thought of the gardening she must do, the flowers she must pick, which ones she would cut and sell, and of all the the people she might meet as she went down the stairs into the kitchen, where she could smell the beginnings of her mother making breakfast.

She had a good feeling about today.