I wasn’t sure what to write for Flash Fiction Friday today, and ended up looking at random gifs for prompts. I found this one pretty quick, searching for “purple”. Here we go:
The evening sky was painted in reds and oranges, a thin veil of clouds over the setting sun. She picked the cup up off of the small table beside the bench she was sitting on. A small trail of steam rose from the hot liquid within, carrying with it a scent of peppermint. She blew lightly on it, then took a small, tentative sip. Her lips curled up at the edges and she sighed happily; just the right temperature. A big gulp followed the first sip and the liquid filled up her mouth, the flavour washing over her like a cool shower on a hot day. A leaf slipped out of the cup and into her mouth, catching on her front teeth, but she just plucked it off and dropped it back into the cup. Nothing beat fresh peppermint tea.
Stretching her legs out in front of her and crossing them at the ankles, she leaned back against the pillows and looked out over the darkening garden. It really needed some TLC. Weeds were growing everywhere, and the grass hadn’t been cut in far too long. She wouldn’t be surprised if there was a few tiny lizards hiding in the overgrown tufts, maybe a bird nest or two in the untrimmed hedges and who knew what else? In between the big project at work and the pottery course she was taking, she’d just been too busy lately to worry about her garden. Maybe in a few weeks, when the big deadlines had been met, she could get it in order…It was a weekend job for sure, and right now her weekends were really just glorified weekdays. In the evenings, like now, she was usually too tired to cook, let alone garden. Still, it wouldn’t last forever.
She might not have realized that she’d dozed off, except that it very suddenly, seemingly from one moment to the next, got very dark. The tea cup was in her lap, precariously tilted to the side but thankfully empty enough not to have spilled anything. She took a sip; it was cold. Setting the up aside on the table, she checked the time. Almost two a.m., far past her usual weekday bedtime. She stretched, rubbed at a crick in her neck and told herself firmly that she ought to go upstairs and get ready for bed. Still, the bench with its pillows, and the cool night air, were both so comfortable she lingered a moment longer.
Suddenly, something caught her eye. A sparkle, a glint of blue or maybe purple in the black mess of shapes that was her garden in the daylight. She closed her eyes, shook her head a little. She must really be getting tired if she was seeing dancing lights. Opening her eyes again, she expected the light to be gone but it was still tired. Furrowing her brow, she squinted to try to see what it was but it was too far away.
“That’s odd…” she mumbled, standing and moving to the edge of the porch. “What is that?” She stepped off of the porch onto the soft, overgrown grass. She approached the light slowly, carefully placing one bare foot just in front of the other so she wouldn’t step on anything painful. After a few steps, she realized what it was. A dandelion, in this veritable sea of dandelions. A dandelion like any other, except in the center of each downy seed, like a crown jewel, was a little, glowing, purple light.
She moved closer, crouching down next to the little flower. She’d never seen anything like it before. “I wonder if I’m dreaming,” she thought, and she reached out to touch it.
Pretty long, for being a Flash Fiction Friday piece. But I sort of like it. Wrote it on-stream, too!
Now I’m heading out for the weekend, so I need to go pack. Have a good one, lovelies!