DEARTH OF A PROVIDER

She called us Michelle and Ursula.

Every morning she came out to bath our tender feet. Every evening she told us stories about her unfaithful husband and his mistress. So together we wintered, had summer’s kiss, and the sweet songs of spring until something strange happened in autumn.

One day the winds so blew hard. Ursula, who had taken a spot close to her window, craned her neck, hoping to check on our friend. But she was gone. Weeks after, Ursula lost her purple. My head drooped and my wilting feet came to the Earth’s surface.

 

 

Footnote: This is a 100-word story, the first of its kind on this blog. Hopefully there will be more in the future. Thanks for reading 🙂

 

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9 thoughts on “DEARTH OF A PROVIDER

  1. The gathering and the fall in flowers, something in life, and decay, poetic beauty resides in both. How’s your world travelling Uzoma, I hope you’ve been able to write, could not imagine you sitting in silence without ink rushing, brushed across the page in hand crafted script..

    1. Hello Sean,

      Thanks for digging this up and commenting. Your comment is spot on– the lesson behind the story is not just about the flowers alone, but life generally.

      Sadly I’ve not been able to write that much after my surgery ): But then, I have been reading books and blogs. Well, not over a long period of time.

      1. Oh, and travelling to Ghana was quite a good experience. For the little time I had prior to my surgery, I visited the state museum and gallery. I was fascinated by the things I saw.

      2. I hope the recovery is going well, missing your writing out here in this world. Happy reading, found any good stories to read out in this world, if so, where do they live.

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