New Flower Wallpaper Biography
A flower that blooms and wilts. I live a life that lasts not more than a few days. Once I was a bud. A little bud in a vast flower garden. The gardener would come and look at me as he did with the other buds. He would water me and then talk to me. He would tell nice things, he would tell me that one day I would bloom and make some one smile. I wondered how.In the days that I was a bud, I would wait, looking at other flowers that bloomed. They bloomed and the gardener would pluck them up and put them in a basket. I wondered, how I could make someone smile. Then one day when the sun rose, light blinded me for a while. I was in full bloom. I looked into the eyes of the sun and bathed in the warmth it shone on me. And then abruptly I was cut. My fate ended up to be the same as the other flowers I had seen bloom. I lied there in the basket. I was tossed and swirled as the gardener took me from basket to basket, and then to a pickup truck. I fell asleep, and then when I woke up, I was in a little shop. Around me were other flowers, they were all of a different kind, they were of different colors, probably a different race. They all looked beautiful. The florist had arranged so many of them together like a painting. People peeked in and picked up a bunch. Every time they did, they had a smile in their eyes.Then, one day, the old florist picked me up. She softly touched me, and gently plucked out the wilted petals. She then handed me over to a young charming boy and tells him – I am sure she will love it. She then looks at me and tells me – Little flower, make his day.
The young boy clutched me with all his heart. His eyes nervous and his mouth chattering away in a nervous tone. We then reached a little park. The boy stops, hiding himself behind the bark of a huge oak tree. He then breathes deeply and turns back. With great courage, he approaches the girl. The girl, pretty that she is, is red with anger. They talk, she yells. The anger melts down into sobs, and she looks away. He gently goes behind her and brushes me on her cheeks. She turns around looking at him in his eyes. They kiss. He drops me on to the ground.The sun rises, and lowers itself. It is almost evening. A little boy picks me up. I remember his face from the window at the florists shop. He looked at the flowers and then counted the pennies in his pocket. With depressed eyes, he left. He picks me up with great care and dusts me off. Happy to hold me, he runs and holds the hand of an old man. He holds on to me with care. He has got tears in her eyes. ‘Tears of happiness’ I think to myself.We enter a huge building. A pretty lady lies in bed. She looks frail, but her anguish dissolves as she sees the boy. The boy runs and jumps on to the bed and hugs her. I see tears rolling from her eyes. She holds him tight and tells him ‘I love you’. The boy tells her – I love you too. He hands me over to her. Her eyes fill with tears and she kisses him on the forehead. He sits on her lap and they talk for hours. When the sun has hid behind the far away mountains, he kisses her goodnight and leaves.The mother looks at me for a long time with fondness. She looks at me and tells me – I love you. I become the little boy. She then takes me and keeps me carefully in a big fat book that seems like a diary. I become her memory. I become a thought.