Fiction: ‘The Gardener’

37 - The Gardener
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Golden rays of sunlight drip from the sky and wash over her golden petals in a flood of light. She stretches her large green leaves towards it. The warmth is so sweet after the freezing night. Endless blue skies have replaced the cool twinkling stars and the morning dew quickly evaporates into the air. Even the grass appears more vibrant under the light of a new day.

Her sisters turn their lovely faces towards the sun.

She looks up into the blue depths of heaven. A little robin sits in the tree, his brilliant red breast puffed out as he lets out a trill of song. Bees flit passed her, zooming busily to their hive. The sweet scent of honey is thick in the air, making the day feel drowsy under the weight of its perfume.

A shadow falls.

She shivers with a sudden chill.

He stands above her, the brim of his hat casting a shadow over his eyes, metal glinting from his hands.

‘Hello, pretty darling,’ he says cheerfully. ‘You will do nicely.’

She feels him push her leaves aside. A loud snap follows as he clamps the blades of his secateurs around her stem. She feels a sharp pain, just for a moment.

And then nothing.

The little sunflower drops into the gardener’s gloved hand, now a lifeless thing.

~ Ekaterina

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