Monday, July 28, 2014

Lazy Girl Blog, Post Three, 2014

The Flower Thief
She started thinking about it on the first afternoon that she was in the village. What if I sneaked into a neighbor's backyard and cut some flowers from their Hydrangea bush. It did not look like anyone was home. But then, the people in these small villages all have eyes in the back of their heads. It would be inevitable that she would be seen. And there would be consequences. Maybe even the police called.

So she tamped down the idea, and thought, "I will just write a story about it. I will be a virtual flower thief."

On a hot July morning, after a storm had blown through in the early hours, and the breeze was still cooling, she took a walk through the village. "I will photograph the flowers and have a record of them for my story," she thought. Of course, all of this was just thinking. Just like the fantasy romance that her friend, Cordelia, was having in her head. A real romance was out of the question. Cordelia was married. But who could stop her from having a fantasy romance? Exactly no one.
The first flowers that attracted her were pink roses against a white fence along the bay. She liked the faded ones as much as the one in prime bloom.
She usually had to buy roses from a florist. These would make such a luxurious addition to her bouquet. "Let's see," she thought, "what was it that Cordelia told me she did this past weekend with X. Ah yes, they went sailing."
She knew a short cut to the beach. The tall grass was newly mowed. It was easy to walk that way and quite pleasurable.
The wind was blowing and the air was fresh.
 "How wonderful," she thought.

She headed down the path to the beach.
 Now flowers were not on her mind. Only enjoying the moment.
 On her way back to her cottage she finished her bouquet.
 Yellow trumpets...
 Blue Chicory...
 Rose of Sharon...
Beach Plum blossoms...
and Hydrangeas.

After all, there were more than enough
 Hydrangeas to go around in the town.

À Bientôt!


  1. An ephemeral adventure fringed by beauty of flowers....

    Martha in Kentucky

  2. Beautifully written. As lovely as the photo of you and your windblown hair!

  3. Your writing makes me smile. Especially the silence after the "she thought."