A crt tv sat on the carpeted floor. It was old and square, with all of those weird buttons and little leds.
All that was played on the screen was field covered in snow, but it could also be the tv static. A serene scene, full of nostalgia.
There could be heard a child's giggle. It made the room warm when, behind the windows, a cold winter was raging outside.
She ran, happy, chasing invisible butterflies. Her laugh was like snowdrops, blooming in snow. Her moves were wild like roses, a beautiful sight in forests. Her head full of garden flowers and dreams, stuffed with every thought there is.
The screen showed two hares—it made her stop and think. Hares are beautiful, but hard to catch. Nothing like bunnies she saw on street markets, where animals were in cages, waiting and looking at the free sky.
Hypnotized by colors and soft furs, she touched the screen and felt electricity fly through her. From fingers to head, to heart, to legs. She blinked.
And she was standing in the middle of the field. Green, even if frost was catching edges nearing the forest. The view was beautiful, wrapped up in frozen breaths from her mouth. But she wasn't cold—spring was coming.
Above high, magpies flew past her and their tails almost looked like paintbrushes that paint the sky. Hares circled her, wanting her to catch them. Playful but fast, faster than her legs.
They knew she was smart, they saw the flowers in her eyes. Who knew flowers could shine brighter than stars?
She didn't know if time stopped or if years passed, but the sun was higher and grass grew taller. Petals were scattered with every color she could think of. The wind was warm against her skin.
Hares came and went away to come again. It all felt like seconds.
The question was asked once, but with the power of thousands of times. Was it the first one, or did she forget all the other questions?
Did she have a choice? She lost sight of tv and her childhood carpets. But she wanted to stay. And she could choose her ways.
She could pick to become a hare and run in opposite directions. She could pick a magpie and fly on painted skies. She could choose bees or squrrels or even grass or clouds or trees.
But all those colors she could see—purples, greens, browns and blues. It all looked like someone she knew.
She didn't even have time to think and her world began to change. And the world began to hear about a beautiful Rose born from dreams.
A rose, not exactly what she wished for, as nature does things fast and listens later. The only fruits of rose could Rose give now were her thoughts and words of wisdom. Embracing others with a velvet, red cloth—warm and soft in touch.
When Rose asked, people thought hard. When Rose sang, words went across the whole field. Flowers singing, wind spreading wings, animals wanting more. Befriending golden moons, suns, rivers and seas.
Smart and nice, open for starry nights. Sometimes she hid behind her leaves. But she was sweet and had a heart made of gold. Traveling through seasons and fields.
The only rose having rosehips.
(for the description fanfic! I may have bent some things to my liking, but my brain wanted it that way so I went with the flow. It is kinda a prolog to Rose's poem story bc why not :33)
Wow Goldy I'm blown away, this is so beautiful!
This story indeed feels like a metaphorical backstory
I love all the references to our talks (maybe I haven't found all), they are so interwoven into the story it feels natural. The tv of nostalgia, the hares and magpies (I didn't expect them and it made me smile). Dreamy girl that didn't want to leave the mesmerising world of magic, that didn't want to leave the whimsical childhood, and thus became part of that world too... As a rose, of course. I love the way you describe the Rose, I'm honored)
The last paragraphs make me think about being on Tumblr (because where else do I get to be a rose), where I get to post my opinions and befriend Golden Moons. I thought about Tumblr analogy when you wrote poem story (like we're apart but still interacting, creating special atmosphere), and here it feels like a logical conclusion. Even if it's not intentional I like to interpret it that way
Also, I feel like there are references to my fanfic description with brushes of magpies tails (I thought it would be fire lol) and flowers brighter than stars. It's like our stories are interconnected