I’m excited to announce the re-start of Fiction Fridays. Each week I will share a fictional short story which may or may not become something more later on! Hope you enjoy!
She ran out of the house fast and quietly. As soon as her feet hit the dirt path that led to the garden she drew in a deep inhale. Had she been holding her breath this whole time? She walked out towards the garden hoping to escape the suffocating tension in the house behind her. They were at it again. Each fight was worse than the last and she decided to sneak out before she was drug into this one as well.
Stepping through the old wood gate at the entrance of the garden her ice blue eyes stared at the the sunflowers ahead. Her favorite flower. She cocked her head to the side with curiosity as she walked closer. The flowers appeared to be facing a new direction this afternoon. She turned to face the same direction they were, as if to try and see what they were looking at. She squinted and held her hand up to her forehead to shield the sun’s glare. She could feel her porcelain cheeks turning pink from the heat as if the sun was kissing her with comfort. She welcomed any kind of comfort at this moment.
She always thought it was a myth that sunflowers “chase the sun,” but today she learned that it was in fact true. She can’t blame them. Why wouldn’t they chase the thing that gives them life? Shouldn’t she also be chasing after what gives her life instead of being stuck in a place that is slowly killing her? She sat on the stone wall that outlined the garden and kicked her sandals off one by one. What gives us life? She thought. Sure we need food, water, and shelter, but surely there is something more that I need to be searching for. A slight cool breeze picked up unexpectedly, but felt pleasant in the sticky heat. As she brushed her sandy blonde hair away from her eyes something on the wall ahead caught her attention. Was that writing on the wall? All of these years in this garden, sixteen to be exact, and she never noticed writing on the wall.
She got up and walked over to the opposite side of the garden to take a look. There were initials carved into the stone, EMJ, her grandfather. Below was a quote that read:
“Just as the beautiful petaled heads
Chase the sun’s golden light
May we always be in search
For the Son’s glorious light.”
She felt something she has never felt before as her arms prickled with goosebumps. Who was he talking about?
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