Watchin, I knew I loved you. It was bare,
That hour of the night.
The night after, the father kept his promise and brought the girl to that field of sunflowers. The little girl ran up to her Sunflower as the previous day, to admire it. The father lay down beside him to catch the sight of the stars, leaning next to the equipment that they had with them. The moon appeared out of the distant lands, as a whitish bud just risen: it was as naïve, able to grow. There were few people who took delight to admire that bud to mature, because this process of the time could injure. It mean something that no one was able to embrace with. They waited him to see its highest point of splendor and admired the reaction of sunflowers. Many have stood still, and this was explained by the father, because of their being ripe.
"The sunflowers once flourished, they could not subsist this movement."
As adults they have lost a part of their charm, but were still able to have fun, playing to look the other banging there in order to increase. They were laughing, remembering their youth.
Other sunflowers showed that at night, everything rebalances and the flower turned back to the east, attracted by the dawn.
The two people were left to sleep on a side of their Electric Flower, still intimidated, looking to the shoes, complaining and asking to themselves to remember to patch the soles.
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YOU ARE READING
Her Sunflower
General FictionFor a little girl who continues to avoid the meaning of her age. A story by Sara Linari (2017)