Originally written: 5/95
Originally posted on "What I Mean Is...

Part of a series...

...and she happened upon a meadow, abundant with exotic flowers. She bent to pick the colorful one, but it screamed in fear. So she turned to pluck another. But that cried as the first. Confused, she tried a third. But it echoed the cries of the others.

She gazed up at the clouds, drifting slowly past.
But they seemed to stop and gaze back.

So she turned to view the horizon.
But that was blocked by mountains.

She turned to see the forest from whence to she came.
But it had left.

So she sat, careful not to crush the flowers.

    And she wept.

Frightened and alone, she wept. The flowers crowded 'round her; easing her pain with their presence and fragrance. She then realized they live as she. So she smiled and caressed the petals, and scents of happiness filled the air.

Content, she stood and walked toward the mountains...