The gardens of FloraMature

I woke up. I'd fainted?

The sky was ... lilac. How could that be? Pale pink clouds drifted across the open expanse above me and the wind sighed in my ears. Where was I? I didn't think I was even on Earth anymore.

I sat up. I was on soft, springy grass the colour of chocolate. I had a strange impulse to taste some. Lying on his back before me was Peter, his eyes closed in contentment, his chest rising and falling so slowly that I wondered if he'd entered another state of mind through his relaxation.

"Er, Peter?" I asked hesitantly, unwilling to disturb him.

"Yes?" he replied, opening his eyes to gaze at me dreamily. My thoughts started to drift away and I struggled to concentrate.

"Where are we?"

"In the gardens of Flora, angel. Do you like them?"

I looked around me. Roses looked like their petals were embedded with tiny gems, marigolds seemed to actually emit light and sunflowers the colour of gold towered above me. The air was overpowered by the scent of lavender, I drowned in the sweet music of the birdsong and the warmth and fuzziness of the atmosphere created both by the feelings Peter had evoked from me and the weather was very soporific. Everything combined to form the sweetest sensation.

"I love them," I breathed.

I lay down beside him, nestling up to him. His smile grew and he closed his eyes again.

"I love you," I sighed.

"Oh, angel, you don't know how wonderful that makes me feel."

In the background, I heard the distant trickle of a stream or water feature. I wondered what colour the water was here. I closed my eyes and became part of the garden. It felt like my spirit had been freed from my body and was walking - no, floating - around. I imagined the things I saw: the tall willows whose branches were plaited, the marble fountains looked upon adoringly by silver cherubs, the flowing water which I fancied was cerulean blue. Everything was wonderful and unearthly, thrilling and breath-taking. I wanted to live here.

"Will you be mine, Tilly?"

I came back to my senses, my spirit was re-anchored by my body and I opened my eyes to see Peter was on his side, looking at me as if I were made of rainbows.

"Yes," I replied, certain.


And he lay back down and started humming to himself. A buzzing grew in my ears and the atmosphere became tense and electric. A scroll appeared in the air above us, apparently not bound by the laws of gravity.

Peter took it and stroked the parchment. The scroll rolled open - I noticed it had no ribbon - and violet curly italic handwriting appeared as if an invisible creature was writing as we gazed upon it.

"The Intertwining of Fates," was the title.

The End

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