Dreamers // Enoch O'Connor

Chapter 29: ເພີ່ມຂຶ້ນ

ເພີ່ມຂຶ້ນ - Lao for rose
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"Miss. Peregrine?" I asked, standing behind the shorter woman.

She stood in the living room, arms clasped in front of her, looking at all her children.

"Yes, Ashlyn?"

"Could I, possibly, go to the village? I-I know it's Enoch's birthday tomorrow and I wanted to buy him something," I replied, looking down at my feet as my heels pressed together.

There's no place like home I thought to myself, smiling.

"Oh, yes of course. Just, be careful. You have your watch, make sure you're back before the air raids," she smiled at me.

I grinned as a thank you, running into the house to gather the small amount of money I had. It was a 10 pound paper bill I found on the ground one morning and saved just for the dead risers birthday.

"Where're you going?" Enoch leaned against my door, arms across his chest as he watched me pull my jacket on and hide the bill in my pocket.

"To the village, I'll be back quickly," I bit my cheek to prevent a smile escaping on my lips.

"Can I come with you?"

"Actually I-" I stuttered, "I need to go by myself, if that's alright."

His face fell, my heart broke.

He nodded his head, walking away.

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I smiled like a little kid, walking through the empty streets of the tiny village.

Really I had only seen it during walks or Raid the Village.

It was rather pretty.

The paths were made of pale, beige colored rocks, with grass on the sides of the roads. The houses were all small cottages, some on two floors, with white walls, dark brown steps, and red brick roofs.

I walked from window to window of the shops, peering through the glass to see what was being sold.

A meat shop and an angry butcher. The pink and raw meat stacked on top of each other, sausages stretching across the whole window, flying. He was bald, face red, eyes blue with veins popping out on the sides. His eyebrows were curved downwards, a large scowl gracing his lips.

A flower shop and an older woman. Hundreds of different flowers placed in the windows, ranging from roses to orchids, sunflowers to poppies. Some were in bouquets, some alone in large crystal vases. The woman had soft gray curls, glasses, and the lines of a wise woman etched into her skin.

A glass shop and a middle aged woman. Crystal objects with a myriad of colors dotted across the glass. Figures ranging from animals to flowers, fairies to villains. The woman stood at the counter, cleaning a small glass toy. A blonde bob, clearly dyed, and soft brown eyes.

A fish sh-

The glass shop.

And in the window a beautiful crimson red rose, with a shamrock green stem, and glass spikes forming thorns.

I walked into the shop, the golden bell ringing above my head.

The woman turned to me. She smiled.

"Hello, dear, how are you?"

"I'm doing well, thank you," I replied, rather sheepishly.

"What brings you here today?"