“A fine day is it not?” The Rose said her petals red and bright. The umbrella looked up a bit taken aback by this sudden remark but he found himself smiling seeing her.
“It is so.”
“I see you always standing here at this time. I couldn’t settle my curiosity anymore.”
“I do always? You must forgive me I am a bit forgetful.”
“Oh please, it is just a passing curiosity. No need to trouble yourself for it.”
“No of course. But I do know why I stand here, you see this little lamb tree? The sun shines so brightly it seemed to trouble the child. So I stood here to give her a bit of shade. The Rose looked at the lamb tree. It was unmoving not a flinch not a breath. It just stood there, under the umbrellas shade.
“She must be happy.” The Rose murmured to herself.
The next day there was a light drizzle. The Rose went out for a walk to feel the rain from her stamen to her receptacle. She saw the umbrella again standing there, shielding the little lamb tree from the rain.
“A fine today too, albeit different from last.” She said sweetly. The umbrella looked up just as surprised as before. But again he smiled broadly seeing her.
“It is I believe.”
“You’re here again.”
“Again? Ah, I must be, if you say so. You must forgive me I am a bit forgetful”
“No it is alright.” her voice was low and sad. But she is always so bright how could one tell? She again looked at the little lamb tree, ‘must be happy’ she thought and left again.
A day rain, another day bright and sunny. It was how it was. The rose bathed in the rain and stood brightly under the sun the next. For that is how she was. Every day she would pass by the umbrella and see him shading the little lamb tree from the rain and the sun.
“You are a flower.” The four-legged owl stated the obvious before continuing, “You need the rain and the sun, to stay as you are, bright and red. The little lamb tree, quite the opposite, requires none. Either of them would hurt her, she requires the shade in a world with unending sun and rain. The forgetful umbrella wakes up every day, finding purpose in her each day anew. Quite the pair, a perfect match dare I say.”
“Quite are.” The Rose says in deep melancholy.
“But there is a day if you are ready to pay the price. There is a day when you and him can be together for however brief.”
Then the four-legged owl said the word from his ever-swinging perch. It sent a shiver down her spine.
The rose rested in a chair in her house. The door and the windows were tightly shut. Not a creak to be found. It was winter. A time when there was neither the sun nor the rain. Just the harsh incredible wind. It was rare and it was the only time the little lamb flower could run around freely without fear. And it was the only day the umbrella would be without purpose. If only she could reach him now and grab him she would never let go. But she couldn’t. The wind was harsh, the moment she would leave the house her petals would be torn off. One by one until she would be just a stem and no one at all.
She would do just that, she would run frantically, the wind tearing away at her, just spend a brief moment in togetherness.
But only for the next day for him to forget it all, not that was too much to bear.
So she merely thought him from her home, the wind so hard it flew him away! It amused her, he would be so surprised. She imagined it vividly, fly away now, fly away now, fly away!