She missed it.
She missed the giant hugs that would engulf her in warmth and an overwhelming sense of protection. She missed the deep rumble of greetings in the morning and when she returned home. She longed for the conversations on nothing and everything that they shared in the evenings. She missed the confidence she felt in his presence. She missed him.
She walked around with a hunch. Once a lass whose smiles bloomed in the sun, she walked around in a daze of uncertainty. She turned from a Rose into a Watcher. Her eyes grew hard and cold, and she learnt the hard way to hide her thoughts and emotions. Her heart once so generous grew guarded and small in an effort to hide from all who would harm her. Enclosed by sharp barbs of ice that reflects the pale pink of the setting sun.
She missed the hugs.
She once lived on the kisses and affection of her friends; now, they never came to visit her on their daily flights. Her open arms quickly closed around herself in a protective, self-embrace and she shunned the touches of others.
Her confidence gone, her hunch was more profound. She wilted under the slightest strain or touch and guarded herself with a sharp tongue. Cynical to a fault and sorrowful, she gained curious looks from all around, but never friends. No, never friends.
She remained a Watcher, lying out in the open sun and watching all around her with guarded eyes. Nary a word of complaint did she utter when she was left to strive on hard ground. Often left to float alone, an island surrounded by cruel waves, she had gotten used to her isolation.
But, she still missed him.
She missed the giant hugs that would engulf her in warmth and an overwhelming sense of protection. She missed the deep rumble of greetings in the morning and when she returned home. She longed for the conversations on nothing and everything that they shared in the evenings. She missed the confidence she felt in his presence. She missed him.
She walked around with a hunch. Once a lass whose smiles bloomed in the sun, she walked around in a daze of uncertainty. She turned from a Rose into a Watcher. Her eyes grew hard and cold, and she learnt the hard way to hide her thoughts and emotions. Her heart once so generous grew guarded and small in an effort to hide from all who would harm her. Enclosed by sharp barbs of ice that reflects the pale pink of the setting sun.
She missed the hugs.
She once lived on the kisses and affection of her friends; now, they never came to visit her on their daily flights. Her open arms quickly closed around herself in a protective, self-embrace and she shunned the touches of others.
Her confidence gone, her hunch was more profound. She wilted under the slightest strain or touch and guarded herself with a sharp tongue. Cynical to a fault and sorrowful, she gained curious looks from all around, but never friends. No, never friends.
She remained a Watcher, lying out in the open sun and watching all around her with guarded eyes. Nary a word of complaint did she utter when she was left to strive on hard ground. Often left to float alone, an island surrounded by cruel waves, she had gotten used to her isolation.
But, she still missed him.
***
Only one person called her by that name.
"Mimosa."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Right-i-o. I'm aware that it is utter chicken turd, and I do apologise to all those unfortunate enough to get pelted with this foul, fowl poop. But really, walk under skies where purple chickens fly and you're just asking for a good splat on the head.
It's just something that has been haunting me and so, I have purged it out of my system! Strange though -- it came out very differently from what I had first thought. Must have been all that Chemistry. It molds the minds of young'ns into the perfect mind for growing mould!
Muahahahahahah!
Hopping with a hop scotch Scot hoping for hot Scotch, over and out.
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