"She was candor in the way she spoke, yet cold in the way she moves and acts. It would seem at first that she keeps only to oneself, but words - they open her."

It was the mere things that I could say that has amounted to so little. She spoke as if life has already ended somewhere else, and that she was back on this very Summer day only to reminisce upon the things that exist everywhere but the present. From that, it would be easy to know however carefree she wishes to be, or portray to be, even when her fingers painted the clarion blue skies, that things remain still tied to her heart, bounding her to a world which we reside under. 

She pointed, and told me it was the reason she returned.

Nothing more, nothing less. This shade of sky is of one she remembers, one which used to bring her internal piece. We stood there talking on a hill path in the very corners of a city. Down below, the entirety of Air Itam can be seen. I had planned to cross this path to reach the town, or perhaps, a sort of olden residence on the other side of this hill, I like the atmosphere of the place. Everything there remains in the grasps of older years. It's the last few places that I know of on this island to remain that way. When I cleared the trees of the hill path, I saw a girl dressed in a white summer dress, sitting on a single rock in the midst of scattered lily petals. I don't recall the rock nor the lily flowers being here before. Her dress, luminous from the sunrays, shone a shade of yellowish-white, its accents bleached and faded. Upon encounter, from her flowing long hair, her gaze affixed upward. I went and sat by her on the scatterings of petals. The sun shone slightly through her chest as if she was translucent, maybe because she is. On certain angles she looked like a clouded mirror, becoming close to but never fully transparent. 

And so we talked.

She told me where she was from, but never her name. "Down there is home," she pointed. She pointed to the olden residence, but she could not point out or identify which house. Instead, she only circled her fingers around the entire perimeter of the olden residence. I stood by, nodding my head to signify my understandings. I offered to walk with her down, but she refused. She looked away from me as I called out to her already on the cobbled road downwards, replying that "We all lie on a single stone on the grass in Summer".

As I went back and stood by her, I wanted to feel the wind she was enjoying here. I wanted to know what was in it that has moved her to return to this location. If the clarion skies existed everywhere, what brings her only to this sloped face? There are only three things - the clarion skies, sun, and Summer wind. I suppose, even if only momentary, that they are enough to live by. She began to ramble about her past, stopping now and then as she struggles to remember. There were things about a boy in her childhood past which she was friends with; a childhood spent in this very city; riding bikes in a certain faded town, and a departure she could not recollect fully. None of these memories of hers contained any names of people or places, and neither did they tell of the time they were stored in her mind. It was all jumbled and sewn into a single endless day. An endless day in Summer.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

I did so as I could to listen. The more she spoke, the longer the pauses between her sentences, then words, then silence. She could no longer find any memories left to pour out to the world. She sat upon the single stone in Summer, now only looking upon the clarion skies.

With time my legs grew tired, so I began to find a spot to sit by her. As I set, I caught the glimpse of a flower within her hands. I expected it to be of a lily flower, but it looked nothing like one. Its petals were unfurled unnaturally. Only after I sat down that I realized the bloom was stuck in the time it was plucked. She caressed the petals gently, thinking about something that was now stuck in between her mind and her throat. Slowly, she murmured out,

"Do you think, even if the petals scatter, a lily is still a lily?"

She told, in a less assuring tone, still cradling the bloom in the soft palms of her hands. The petals reflected light so strongly for organic matter. It shone straight through her face.

"Well, even after the petals have scattered, I don't think it will diminish any value or the identity of a said flower by one bit. The petals become the last remnants of a once-blooming bud." I said.

"Then... if a flower's bloom is seen by none, would it's scattered petals leave behind any value?"

I thought about it, but my mind would not let me ponder. My heart ached for a reply beyond my bidding, and before I would even register it, words formed through my throat and out my mouth as if spoken by another person.

"As long as the petals exist, they can be pieced back together into bloom, regardless of how much time passes since."

"Then who shall be the one that pieces scattered blooms together?" She asked.

"Are you not still holding onto one within your palms? It takes both to piece together."

She looked away from me for a moment, pondering my statement. Pondering, as her gaze affixes back into the horizon, a genuine smile in the corner of my eye. She let out her breath, which fizzled away almost instantly as the Summer wind blew by.

"Very well."

Her gripped loosened bit by bit, until the bloom slipped out of her grasp and scattered into the wind, fading out of sight.

And so did she. 

[https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/a6ee6fbb-115a-484d-a2b3-8cfc20e050f3/de78f82-5daba0b3-8533-44b2-bf7a-a72e37c78569.jpg/v1/fill/w_1280,h_1920,q_75,strp/_scf3754_by_idaeasthesia_de78f82-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3siaGVpZ2h0IjoiPD0xOTIwIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvYTZlZTZmYmItMTE1YS00ODRkLWEyYjMtOGNmYzIwZTA1MGYzXC9kZTc4ZjgyLTVkYWJhMGIzLTg1MzMtNDRiMi1iZjdhLWE3MmUzN2M3ODU2OS5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTI4MCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.aIMfNh1WHzEahg9_mzaFfhDtg7NA9LAndOZx8k8x_10]