Pressed between the pages of her old diary, she kept a flower hidden. It wasn’t special in any way, just one she picked when she was a child in her grandmothers back garden. All these years she had kept it safe in the diaries that followed. Always there, she grew up, left for university, got married, had children. Grandchildren. And now when her crooked fingers no longer can hold a pen, it is still there, like a little delicate time machine, giving evidence that there indeed was a time when she was a child, picking the flower with chubby fingers.
5 Comments
8/28/2015 06:57:52 am
Dear Veronika,
Reply
8/28/2015 07:51:53 am
I love the notion that a pressed flower is a time machine. Beautiful!
Reply
8/28/2015 10:04:07 am
I like how the description of fingers evokes the passing of time.
Reply
8/28/2015 11:11:09 am
Memories found in unusual places priceless belongings. Reminded me of my grandmother, she always kept a diary.Lovely Flash!
Reply
8/28/2015 11:41:40 am
Oh, yes - that's nice. How we change as we age. The pressed flower is a beautiful symbol, and the tone of your story captures the feeling perfectly.
Reply
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorArchives
October 2015
Categories |