Thursday, May 29, 2014

The Fall of Spring

            My name is too difficult for you to say. Call me Lavenda. This is my final night of being alive. My children have spread across this land, and my life is near its end. I have until midnight of Hallows Eve to wander. Wander in human flesh, or as human as I may appear to look. Thankfully, my kind cannot be hounded or murdered as they once were on this night. Thankfully, the humans have grown to be so afraid of what goes bump in the night that they refuse to believe that there is anything there, in the dark, staring.
            I was a small flower, I had grown to my correct height, I lived my life fully, and now I get to join the humans and try their world. Just for a night. We all get this chance, on our last night of living, to live to our fullest in the form we wished we could have. Mine, obviously, was this. A small child had pressed their face against me one day, inhaled, and said I smelled as pretty as I looked. I hoped to find that child and thank them for the compliment.
            Wandering around for a few hours, seeing children dressed as super heroes, monsters, and fantasy creatures, I doubted I would see the child. It had been years, and when humans grow, they become unrecognizable. And in this sea of masks and paint, I knew for certain that I wouldn’t see that child again until we met again in the afterlife.

            Finding my way back to my home, an apartment complex in Reno, I started to feel tired, and wondered the time. I laid on the ground, in front of something called a mortuary, its grass cold and welcoming on my back. And then I heard a man lean over me, pick me up in his hands, and smell me. I could not open my eyes, I was going. But I heard him say, ‘Still smells as good as it looks.’

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