A Small Village

Pedalling towards the flower field at the back of a small village. The first days of May were inundated in a fragrance of roses and I found it peculiar how that smell had something in common with yours. Your fragrance also inundated my room in the early hours of the morning. When I arrived at the field, I was encountered with your smile waiting for me. The skies transformed into a delicate splash of pastel colours yet little did it have in common with you. Lying on the grass, you painted and adorned my skies in a heavenly shade of golden. In the shade of a nearby tree, we were to be found, examining the butterflies’ distinct colours. I had one thing in common with them. They flickered as tenderly as my eyelids fluttered when I dreamed of you. You created a home for me, home, I was almost a home for you. I pedalled towards the flower field at the back of a grand village. You talked to me about your past thinking your future was undoubtedly me. The summertime sky became blue and the dandelions grew. As effortlessly as the constellation of stars oscillated, I danced at your mellifluous voice. When I arrived at the field, I was encountered with your smile, waiting for me. We ran and we ran. I felt like a feather, elegantly descending in an eternal breeze. You guided me to a nearby river. You had one thing in common with the river, the river flowed as strongly as you moved me. One July morning, I woke up to the realization that your presence tranquillized the whirlwind that ate away my thoughts at night. I couldn’t tell If I was in love with the butterflies and meadows or if I was in love with you. Beginning of Autumn, the breeze became more rampant, blowing the leaves off of the tree we sat under. They fluttered to earth like colourful rain. The next day, when I arrived at the field, your eyes glistened sceptically. You seemed much happier with her. I continuously wondered "What do we have in common now?" The sudden autumn took away the warmth in the air and you shared one particular trait in common; You took away the warmth in my heart. The glimmer in my golden skies was invaded with pure hatred. Just as swiftly as the leaves fell off the trees, you fell out of love with me. I pedalled towards the field at the back of this melancholic village. Where are you? I called but you never replied. The last days of autumn were immersed in a fragrance of desolation. I gradually noticed, perhaps, I had a lot in common with the winter that was approaching. The winter formed a covering of ice around the tree branches, so did I with this ruptured soul. We had a lot in common Did we? You created a home for me, home, I was almost a home for you.

by Ticiana, Year 10

 

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