Sunflower – A Short Story

The clouds were grey, and the rain was speckled on the day that I smiled as I strolled. I strolled down many a road that had held the weight of my wellington boots aged six, my first pair of heels aged thirteen and finally now my grass-kissed white trainers aged twenty. It was an effortless smile that could not be caged.

It was born into my jaw and my lips and my teeth and as I walked, I could feel my muscles pull without force just as the clouds above pull gently apart in the breeze. It has been a while since something beyond my control has ignited such deep warmth and deep relief, like a spectacle that reaches your heart before your mind has even awoken from its daydream slumber. It felt like being painted in sunflower-yellow watercolours, as if my body were being moulded from clay by an artist with hands made of willow tree leaves.

There was no thought behind my smile and that is why I am in love with it. After months of thoughts so reoccurring that they had lost all real meaning, the first buds of spring had finally blossomed to not have to think about this one – it breathed on it’s own and grew roots without the sun and just a solitary drop of rain from above. Perhaps I am no longer dependent on the warm weather to bring me peace of mind. I no longer need the promise of a golden forecast to be filled with confidence and contentment. Oh, how far I have come.

I used to see myself as a sunflower and you were the sun – I now see myself as both of these glories, both the mother and the child, the master and the student. The sun is warmer now even when it rains, the mother stronger now even when she cries and the master wiser now even if he stumbles. It’s a homegrown blessing, an organic serenity and I now know that the reason my smile falls upon me so naturally is because it exists for no one else’s benefit but my own. It is a sunflower forever in bloom.

Illustration by Rose and Pearl Studio

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