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"May the petals teach me the art of letting go" Xan Oku
The morning following our trip to the theatre, I wake up to the sound of the girls giggling. Just like most nights, I barely slept and instead found myself with a book in my hands or looking straight at the ceiling, lost in my thoughts. I stand from my bed and make my way to the shared bathroom to get ready for the day, choosing to ignore the loud group.
At exactly 6:45, the maids serve us breakfast. I'm sitting, as usual, in front of a young girl named Susan. I often find myself absorbed by the retelling of the many dreams she likes to share with us. Obviously, some of them are clearly made up but the way she tells them entertains us greatly.
"...And that's when I start to fall rapidly into total darkness as if the earth itself was swallowing me. My fall seemed like an eternity and it is only when I see a blinding light and hear the sound of a waterfall that my body hits the soft ground. You wouldn't believe what I saw there, that place was truly magnificent with flowers, butterflies, and green grass. The sky was a warm pink colour, just like the dress we saw through the window shop by the theatre yesterday!" She says with stars in her eyes.
Most of the girls are smiling at her, catching on to every word. I, myself, wear a content expression at how creative and sociable Susan is.
The rest of the meal goes by quickly with the storyteller and it is unfortunately time to do our chores. Miss Sullivan is very strict in general but she really doesn't play around when it comes to doing our tasks correctly.
I make my way to the broom closet as I am assigned to floor cleaning today. I grab the broom in the best condition and start sweeping. Making sure I pass in all the dark little corners and the hidden surfaces, it takes me around an hour to do the first floor before climbing the stairs to the second. I sweep the dorms first and as I'm doing my own, my eyes notice something on the window.
A flower. I carefully take it in between my fingers and analyze it. After a few minutes, I realize this type might not have been in the flower books I read the other day since I can't recognize the delicate red petals. The more I think about it, the more certain I become to have never seen, heard of or read about a plant that looks like this exact one.
How did it get here?
I look around to see if any of my roommates could have left it there by accident but find the dorm empty. Loving the appearance of the flower, I decide to rest it on my bedside table and make a mental note to myself to place it in a vase of water later. I can't help it, I love flowers.
———
Later in the day, after doing my chores, I am sitting on a couch in the living room when the lady in charge of the mail, Miss McAllister, passes the wooden door.
