dandelion,

i have decided to play the word game with myself, giving my brain a single word to contemplate on daily. after i write as long as my inspiration lasts, i upload it to my tumblr. and now, it shall also go here.
this piece was modeled after the word dandelion. i was feeling a bit... im not sure. i was sad, i know, because a certain someone who i actually kind of like a lot told me they liked someone else. and so, this was sort of a daydream. i have no idea.
i apologize for the abrupt ending; i k

an endless carpet of green speckled with yellow and white and purple, shaded by a single grand oak in the center is where i spend my summer days. in a white sundress, one of those old, extremely large sunhats with a purple trim, and a pair of those gigantic sunglasses to shield my hazel-coloured eyes from the sun’s harmful rays. there is a boy with me today; his skin slightly tanned, his hair dark and messy — just the way i like it. his smile beams down at me from his superior height of six foot, a certain mischief dancing about his eyes as his arm slinks around my waist. in my hand, our picnic basket for our romantic day beneath the grand oak.

i set the basket down, pulling the red and white checkered blanket from under it’s lips, flinging it out and plopping down on it. i pat the spot beside me and he sits, giving me a kiss on my nose before diving into the food i’ve made for our little rendezvous.

we sat underneath the shade of the grand oak nearly all day, laughing and eating and talking gayly, just enjoying each others presence. after a while, we ran out of things to talk about. his head in my lap and my fingers in his hair, we looked down at each other, smiling sweetly and making silly faces back and forth.

all of a sudden, he sat up, reaching over into the grass. he plucked one of the biggest, yellowest dandelions i had ever seen in my life. he adjusted himself so that he was sitting indian style in front of me, a grin on his face. i looked at him quizzically, but said nothing.

he leaned forward, placing the weed into the purple brim of my hat. he then sat back, grinning proudly. i asked what his expression was for. he said he was glad that i was his, and that it amazed him how i could make even something as simple as a dandelion elegant and beautiful, without flaw.

The End

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