BlueBells

The First Bluebell

  The trees whisper their secret songs to one another. The wind rushes past me as I wander along a crumbling path. A steep, soft edge that hangs a foot above a rushing river. I can feel my feet making ever so soft impressions with my every step. Heel, toe, heel, toe and so on. I can feel myself swaying, trying not to fall. I spot a small flower on the other side of the river. The sun shone on it so perfectly that it formed a golden halo.
     I hop from the path. When I peek my head over my shoulder to look behind me I see that small chunks of the cliff gently roll down after me. I pull off my shoes so that I can wade into the water. It's cold, but just warm enough to swim in.
    It never goes past my hips, no matter how far across I go. I reach the opposing end to which I started. I climed up a small hill. I can feel the damp grass between my toes. A branch snagged on my shirt, my I keep walking. I finally reach the crest of the hill to claim my prize. It was a small bluebell. All alone in the feild of over grown grass. Nestled in, just so that you can barley see it. That is, of course, unless you happened to find your self in search of one.
    I picked the small bluebell. I rub one of the petlals, trying to decide where I could store this with out damaging it. After careful consideration I decide to carry in my hands. That's the only place it won't rumple or wrinkle. I picked this flower because it was the only bluebell on a hill plastered from end to end with daisys.
    I start heading home, the sun setting behind me. Lighting the pink and orange sky with its final rays; to mark the days end. It's been quite the lovley day today. You could almost say that it was the perfect day; but you can't. Not yet at least.
    I make it to my 'self made' halfway mark. I slow my pace ever so slightly because I see someone. The only someone that could make this whole day utterly perfect. She's lounging against a tall standing oak tree. She has a Stephen King book that she's staring at intensely. I amble towards her, and lower my self beside her.
I look at her for a short stint of time, and just take her in.
    I suppouse she finished the exciting part of her book; because she marked her page with her thumb, then looked to her left. When she examined it closely enough to determine that no one was there she turned her head to the right. It took about a half of a second for her to realize someone was there. When she did she let out the shriek of a banshee.
    Then she slowly realized it was me, and the banshee shriek died down to silence. "Jesus christ! I almost had a heart attack, AND IT WOULD HAVE BEEN YOUR FAULT!" She took a moment to catch her breath and re compose. "Also, thank you for not inturupting. The antagonist was almost murdered!" She squeaked.
    "No problem. Although, seeing as you're so clearly reading a horror novel, and un the middle of the woods, maybe I should have given you a subtle heads up. " She simultaneously shrugs and nods at the same time. She looks down at her sneakers, because she gets to nervous to look in people's eyes.
    "Hey, I found something for you today. It's not much, but I went to great lengths to get this." I tell her with a wide smile. She looks up at me for just a moment. I am able to get a brief glimpse of her large, warm brown eyes. Then she her eyes dart quickly to the novel in her lap.
    I reach beside me to pick up the flower that I had placed down beside me only minutes before. I show it to her proudly; like a small child proudly presenting his newest art project. "I quite enjoy blue bells" I tell her. She looks at me, with a tilt of her head. I lean closer to her "Every time I spot one I can't help but to think of you." I whisper in her ear. I look up, into the night sky. A never ending canvas, painted with the twinkling lights of a perfect moment. She considers this briefly before she finally replies.
    "How so?" She asks me. Her eyes are still focused on the cover of her book; but I know that she's waiting for a reply. I'm back to staring at her again. The moon makes her jet black hair look the darkest shade of blue. She smells like a warm day in April, all year long. I feel as if I need to take note of this night. That way I can always remember it, and everything about it.
    "They are blue and always looking down." I say to her. Now she actually looks at me and scowls. So I go on "Despite their gloomy appearance they have an eternal beauty. Not like the sun, but like the moon. They radiate life; and seem to be able make other people feel better, while they them selves remain sad. No matter how blue they are, or how much they look down they always remaim lovley, in a darker way than most flowers." I pause "You make quite the magnificent blue bell."
    She looks up at me, directly in the eyes. Her eyes are wide and round, more than usual. I kiss her lightly on the forehead. Then she wraps her arms around my rib cage and presses her face against my chest. I wrap my long arms around her. I can feel her smiling. I rest my chin on top of her head and smile to. "This has been the perfect night." She says in my shirt, just loud enough so that I could hear.