Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

July 21, 2018, 09:34:37 PM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti

Saturday-Homesick



Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Tulips  (Read 27 times)
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berkley84
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« on: July 10, 2018, 02:44:02 AM »

   Feel a little nervous in the flower shop, bombarded by color and a naturally perfumed scent. There’s something Earthy in the aroma, a civilized filthiness, yet overall it is sweet and meditative. Everything hits your eyes in a hot flash and you wonder what’s what. Someone tells you these are lilies and those are petunias. They immediately merge and become one. A purple, red, yellow pinwheel on a green stem. Taste a little leftover caffeine from the morning when you ask for a bouquet. The woman’s glare says, “Who are you buying flowers for? An imaginary girl?” She’s so skeptical it floods out of her before she can regain her composure. You hear water flowing and a CD spinning some easy listening synths and bells. She hands you tulips in a great green plastic bag. It is lovely. It feels heavier than expected. Outside there is a creek that flows through town, a waterfall right here under the bridge. Listen to traffic in this little mountain town, crawling like so many ants to their hills. The Sun is reflecting off the sidewalk creating a warm bath of air. Through sunglasses, the tulips take on a new color tone, dark and pure and real. Suddenly, you are addicted to the smell. It flows into you like a symphony. There is nothing else but these flowers, so intricately patterned when you look at them closely. They feel like velvet when you rub them on your cheek.
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