Flowers Fell

And flowers fell.

Twirling, spinning, dancing flowers. I couldn't help but smile. The wind fell silent, satisfied that he'd finally got a smile out of me, however determined I was to be miserable. Well, not miserable exactly, just hollow.

She appeared from the flowers like an angel, a fairy, something surreal. I don't think she even saw me, to be honest. She was wrapped up in her own world. The blossom petals seemed to part to let her through, although a couple of rebellious ones crept silently into her hair, her clothes, coming to rest gently, as if not to disturb her. It was musical, all of it, although I could never have placed the beat, the harmony, the melody. It was there, though. In her quiet hands was a bear, a little grey-blue teddy bear, ever so slightly worn at the edges – frayed ears and a shiny worn patch on his nose – almost as if love had tugged and pulled at him in affection.

I stepped aside to let her pass, and she didn't even look up. Her eyes were lowered, on the bear. She carried it carefully but protectively, as if she was shielding its innocence.

I tried to walk on, but my mind was ever drawn back to the figure behind me. She had left a strange impression in my head, I couldn't recall anything about her appearance – she was a vague, sketchy individual that I could not recollect. It was her emotion that I remembered – she had been brimming with sadness, exuding melancholy like a flower scatters pollen in the wind. The air behind her was tainted with it. In the end, I glanced back, and found myself unable to go onwards. I turned and followed her.

She walked into the park, walking slowly. I followed her as unobtrusively as I could, realizing that if I was caught, there was no way I could explain my actions. There was just something about her; I had to know.

I still couldn't quite place what it was that intrigued me. I couldn't even place exactly what it was I was thinking, it was something unexplainable, something intangible. Trying to place it was like trying to grasp the elusive quality of colour itself. If I separated her feeling from her, it no longer made sense, it suddenly because like mist, and evaporated.

She stopped at a bench, and I knew instinctively that to her, this was no normal bench. There was a significance in the way she sat, in the way she smiled tellingly to the bear and looked up at the sky.

A single tear ran down her cheek, glistening. It wasn't like any tear I've ever seen. It wasn't caused by overwhelming emotion, or an attempt to cleanse her soul, it wasn't attention seeking, it wasn't filled with despair; it simply was. That one tear had no significance, and yet it had all the significance in the world.

The perfection of it astounded me.

I stepped tentatively over to the bench and sat beside her, the bench creaking a little beneath my weight. I was still for a moment before turning to her. "Hello," I began.

She turned to me and smiled.