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Scorpion Grass
By
rune

Scorpion Grass

Time may past ...

... Three hundred sixty-five days already

 

His dark sleep-deprived tired eyes were focused looking on a bunch of beautiful blooming little flowers.

The flowers are small, measuring 6mm. in width. Each radially symmetrical bloom has a fused corolla that opens into five rounded lobes. The flower is powder-blue with a conspicuous, bright yellow center. Flowers are arranged in tightly coiled, rounded clusters that unfurl as the flowers progressively bloom.

The leaves are oblong, measuring 2.5-5 cm. in length, and oblong. These deep green leaves are often stalkless, have blunt tips, a deeply recessed midvein, and are covered with fine hairs.

They were like wild weeds but beautiful to look at the longer you look at it. Slowly swaying with the soft blows of the wind that was planted on the corner lot. His thoughts were wandering elsewhere, as he whispered to no one in particular.

"Just like, I can stare at you for a long time and my eyes won't get tired. You are like that bunch of little blue wildflower they get prettier the longer I stare."

His lips curve a smile but never reaches his sad eyes, remembering the stories she used to share during their bedtime together about her exciting and adventurous childhood memories that resembles his own.

"I hope our three sons will have the same adventurous experience in this lifetime. That they will remember their happy childhood memories and someday would tell their own children in the future."

"Epoh has been sick lately but he stayed brave and continue life courageously."

"Ared was granted his full scholarship this year and still as fabulous as ever."

"Urie is as mischievous as ever and showing his intellectual mind."

"Just like you, our three sons are all like you in a wild beautiful way."

"I hope you can hear me now and see are our children."

"We love you."

"Happy forty-forth Birthday, Bebong."

"I miss you every day. It terribly hurts so much."

As tears fall from his eyes, a cold wind softly blows caressing his breaded face and messing his long black hair. The wind reaches his ear, brushes its outer skin, it felt like whispering...

 


"Forget me not."

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