Cherry Blossoms

I love words, the way they are strung together to make people laugh and cry and love and feel things they can't explain. I love sitting here in the golden hours of sunset and pondering them and the characters they give life to, that live in the pages around me. This feels like home.

The soft scent of cherry blossoms, I smelled it before I saw her. Saw her dark purple nails and rebellious, brunette hair rippling out of her loose bun like Spanish moss.

I remember the way she bit her lip as her fingers danced over the spines of old books. I wondered desperately what it was, not only so I could help her seek it out, but because no one ever came to this part of the library. Where the shadows kept secrets and the room felt like it was yawning as it stretched its curved arches and creaked. I loved it though, the old leather-bound books, wooden floors and spiral staircases with intricate railings adorned by sprite like creatures playing in leaves. I would curl up in the oriel and look out over the city skyline, pretending I were trapped in another time.

Her denim jacket grazed my arm as she passed by. She turned. She smiled. Her sea green eyes saw me. Really, really saw me, as if I wasn't invisible. They were a colour I had only read of in books about places with water you could swim in everyday if you wanted.

"Sorry." Her voice reminded me of a fairy wren.

Then her gaze caught the view.

"Oh..." she whispered. "That is so absolutely beautiful."

She looked at me again and seemed to suddenly realise she had spoken out loud. She looked at her feet, smiling under a paltry cascade of loose threads of brunette. I watched her walk away, a worn, brown, leather bag slung over one shoulder, her arms cradling a small mountain of classic romances. She continued her searching.

Then my attention was caught by the fine, gossamer haze of dust particles floating into view as they came into the square of sunlight streaming through the window disappearing just as fast. But, for their short life they scintillate the golden light making the room twinkle, like magic is in the air.

She was walking away. The elegant heels of her boots drumming my heart beat out on the old wooden floors, her silhouette framed by the tall shelves. She was walking away.

The room was lit up by the crepuscule sky, the sun was yelling orange and gold and yellow at the city. And she was walking away.

She would turn at the corner and I would never see her again. I felt like all the characters I loved and had lived with were urging me on, telling me to go after her.

***

I am watching the sunset. Not the same sunset I was telling you about a moment ago, in fact I have seen many sunsets from this spot since. I have pondered many words and characters since, though I have pondered other things too. Sea green eyes; classic romances, leather spines in an array of reds and oranges and browns, fairy wrens and city horizon sunsets.

Reader do you smell it?

I smelled it before I saw her.

Lilac and lavender, soft and sweet, buttery vanilla, reminding me faintly of red roses.