is.
Lurching forward, mesmerized, Charis and Chloe’s footsteps pound behind me, but I don’t pay attention.
“What are you looking at?” Chloe inquires.
I lift a finger, placing it against my lips, silencing Chloe with the gesture and stop at the edge of the left corner of my yard. The flower grows beneath a massive redwood tree. The white and pink speckled petals are magnetic, they draw me closer. They are the metal and I am the magnet.
Charis throws herself in front of me and her forcefulness startles me. I jump backwards, panting. “What are you doing?”
Charis glances between me and the flower. “What are you doing?” she asks, shooting me a glare, eyes filled with accusation.
“What am I doing? I’m going to pick that flower, that’s what I’m doing.”
“Why would you want to pick that thing?” Charis glances over her shoulder and wrinkles her nose, then looks at me. “It’s just a stupid flower.”
I can’t even fathom the fact that she’s not blown away by the beauty of it. The single, solitary flower, resting only feet in front of me is the most breathtakingly beautiful flower I’ve ever seen. Balling my hands into fists I place them on my hips. “If it’s just a stupid flower I don’t know why you’re standing in front of me trying to keep me from picking it,” I retort.
Either one of two things is going on; either Charis knows more about this flower than she’s letting on, or she’s just trying to be difficult. I know the way the twins feel about nature and its balance. They preferred that mortals and Gods alike just left things be. Back in Greece, I recalled how upset they used to get when workers would chop down trees to build ships. I’d spent hours consoling them after one of those occasions.
“It’s not just any flower,” Chloe adds.
I glare at Chloe. “What do you mean it’s not just any flower? What is it called?”
“Shhhh!” Charis snaps.
I lurch forward, closer, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. “What is going on?” They are definitely keeping something from me and I intend to find out what that something is. “Never mind,” I snap. “I don’t need to know what it’s called.” All I know is that it would look lovely in a vase on my nightstand.
Charis points over her shoulder. “Don’t you think it’s odd that they’re no other flowers growing around it?”
Craning my head over her shoulder, I shrug. “No. Not all flowers grow in patches or together.”
“Okay,” says Charis. “Don’t you find it odd that you don’t know what kind of flower it is?”
I’m stumped by that one. Yes, I do think it’s a little strange that I’ve never seen the flower before, but every time I look catch a glimpse of it, I can’t help but feel the overwhelming urge to pick it. I throw my hands up into the air in fake frustration. “Fine,” I grumble, pretending to give up. “I’ll just go find some other flowers to pick.”
I head to the opposite side of the yard, stopping half-way when I realize the twins aren’t following me. Twisting around partly, I slant my eyes at them. “What is with you two? I said I’m going to pick some more flowers. Don’t you want to join me?”
The twins exchange awkward glances, but still don’t move.
Annoyed, I turn all the way around. Chloe stares at me and starts rolling her thumbs. “We know you,” she says uneasily. “At times, you’re a bit stubborn.”
Charis chimes in, “I think what Chloe is trying to say is; we know that you always try to get what you want. You’ve never, in all the years we’ve known you, have given up so easily on something you want. And right now, I know you want to pick this flower. And you can’t pick it. We won’t let you.”
Her statement makes my mind churn like homemade butter. I think back to a time during my childhood in Ancient Greece. Mom had taken to me to a field and was teaching me about various types of plants and what their purposes were.
Lurching forward, mesmerized, Charis and Chloe’s footsteps pound behind me, but I don’t pay attention.
“What are you looking at?” Chloe inquires.
I lift a finger, placing it against my lips, silencing Chloe with the gesture and stop at the edge of the left corner of my yard. The flower grows beneath a massive redwood tree. The white and pink speckled petals are magnetic, they draw me closer. They are the metal and I am the magnet.
Charis throws herself in front of me and her forcefulness startles me. I jump backwards, panting. “What are you doing?”
Charis glances between me and the flower. “What are you doing?” she asks, shooting me a glare, eyes filled with accusation.
“What am I doing? I’m going to pick that flower, that’s what I’m doing.”
“Why would you want to pick that thing?” Charis glances over her shoulder and wrinkles her nose, then looks at me. “It’s just a stupid flower.”
I can’t even fathom the fact that she’s not blown away by the beauty of it. The single, solitary flower, resting only feet in front of me is the most breathtakingly beautiful flower I’ve ever seen. Balling my hands into fists I place them on my hips. “If it’s just a stupid flower I don’t know why you’re standing in front of me trying to keep me from picking it,” I retort.
Either one of two things is going on; either Charis knows more about this flower than she’s letting on, or she’s just trying to be difficult. I know the way the twins feel about nature and its balance. They preferred that mortals and Gods alike just left things be. Back in Greece, I recalled how upset they used to get when workers would chop down trees to build ships. I’d spent hours consoling them after one of those occasions.
“It’s not just any flower,” Chloe adds.
I glare at Chloe. “What do you mean it’s not just any flower? What is it called?”
“Shhhh!” Charis snaps.
I lurch forward, closer, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. “What is going on?” They are definitely keeping something from me and I intend to find out what that something is. “Never mind,” I snap. “I don’t need to know what it’s called.” All I know is that it would look lovely in a vase on my nightstand.
Charis points over her shoulder. “Don’t you think it’s odd that they’re no other flowers growing around it?”
Craning my head over her shoulder, I shrug. “No. Not all flowers grow in patches or together.”
“Okay,” says Charis. “Don’t you find it odd that you don’t know what kind of flower it is?”
I’m stumped by that one. Yes, I do think it’s a little strange that I’ve never seen the flower before, but every time I look catch a glimpse of it, I can’t help but feel the overwhelming urge to pick it. I throw my hands up into the air in fake frustration. “Fine,” I grumble, pretending to give up. “I’ll just go find some other flowers to pick.”
I head to the opposite side of the yard, stopping half-way when I realize the twins aren’t following me. Twisting around partly, I slant my eyes at them. “What is with you two? I said I’m going to pick some more flowers. Don’t you want to join me?”
The twins exchange awkward glances, but still don’t move.
Annoyed, I turn all the way around. Chloe stares at me and starts rolling her thumbs. “We know you,” she says uneasily. “At times, you’re a bit stubborn.”
Charis chimes in, “I think what Chloe is trying to say is; we know that you always try to get what you want. You’ve never, in all the years we’ve known you, have given up so easily on something you want. And right now, I know you want to pick this flower. And you can’t pick it. We won’t let you.”
Her statement makes my mind churn like homemade butter. I think back to a time during my childhood in Ancient Greece. Mom had taken to me to a field and was teaching me about various types of plants and what their purposes were.
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