LothLorian – Flash Fiction


I am standing atop a hill looking down at the large willow tree. Mother willow is what I call her. I try to spot who’s sitting by her trunk. I see a figure. I recognize the figure. I run down the hill, barefooted and happy, my gown engulfed by the waves of gentle wind. I reach to the trunk where my love is sitting, intertwining flowers that surround the tree with his long slender fingers. He looks up, stands and comes near me. He lifts me up and spins me around. My hair begins to dance in the billowing breeze. His arms give way and we collapse upon each other. My back lands on his legs. We laugh. The sun begins to set and the sky becomes a reddish hue with streaks of yellow and purple swirling in-between. He wiggles his body so that his back is on mother willow’s bark. My head rests in his soft lap. He looks down at me. The bright brown eyes and a sweet soft smile on his face that can light the thousands of flames that lay burning within my heart. A leaf falls and is swept up by a tiny gale. It falls on my chest. He tosses it aside. And grazes his fingers slowly up my neck. He stretches one finger and plays with my ear. He cups my chin and leans in closer. Strands of his silky hair begin to fall and I rest my hand on the back of those curly tendrils and embrace his kiss. His soft sweet petal lips pierce mine and uplift my heart with a tamed ecstasy. Soon our lips part. He places his lips on my forehead and we both look on to witness the sun set behind the beautiful green hill.

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