• A beautiful orange lily sat alone in a clearing. The sun was rising, and it illuminated her from an odd angle, lighting up the dew and giving her firey petals a strange, transluecent look. She enjoyed this time of day the most, you see, for her quiet lover would be joining her any moment now. All she had to do was wait.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    A young red-haired girl sat silently on the bus. It was just turning morning, and the light that poured in from the windows lit up her hair in a gorgeous fashion. I look wonderful this way, she thought, I must look like a bright, dazzling lily. But that's not the only reason she loved this time of day. Soon enough, she would be able to be near the only person that's ever mattered to her.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The lily was still waiting--the sun was directly overhead now--for her loved one. The heat was scortching, and the sun made her petals look glorified. Almost like the sun itself. So she continued to wait, holding onto those last thoughts of outer-beauty.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    It was almost two o'clock, and her patience was running thin. She was growing angrier as the second, minutes, even hours went by, for he hadn't bothered speaking a word to her all day. She sighed, her anger being replaced with another feeling. A feeling of loneliness? She caught a glimpse of herself, then thought, Nonsense. I can't be lonely. I'm much too proud, and continued to endure this alien feeling while waiting for his attention.
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The sun was losing strength when she decided to stop waiting. The poor, lonely lily uprooted herself and limped over to the pond. She was awfully thirsty after waiting in the sun for him all day. She walked past the boundaries of the clearing and past the scattered bushes to where the pond was. What she saw, though, startled her more than anything ever could. Her wonderful Foxglove was hiding avec une autre fleure. A tulip. A satisfyingly pretty tulip.
    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    It was growing dark by the time she had given up on seeing him that day. She decided that maybe he'd be in their clearing. She quietly walked down the street, through some trees, past the few bushes, and into the flowery field she regards as 'their clearing'. It was almost completely level, and had nothing but green grass and delicately placed flowers. She loved their clearing. She also loved their pond. So, after a while of waiting in the clearing, she walked past a few more trees, not too many bushes, and voila, he was there at the pond. But her eyes were simply decieving her. He was here, yes, but so was someone else. A slender, beautiful, light-blonde girl.
    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The poor tulip wanted to confront him so badly. Instead, she quickly ran away, avoiding them and their closeness, their unbearable connection with each other, their visible attraction. She had thought the tulip was a friendly, warm flower. One who was sweet and kind and full of respect for other. She thought wrong, apparently. She hid back in the clearing, hiding her hurt under a tree where no one could see her bold orange petals weep and wilt.
    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Their kiss seemed to have lasted forever, but it eventually ended. And when it did, she was there to give them both an angry glare before turing and striding back into the clearing. All she wanted to do was to hide at that point. She didn't know why she waited for the kiss to end; she just did. She regretted that as she hid under the nearest tree, finding the most gorgeous lily of them all, hiding with her.
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    A strange human sat down with her, under the strong sturdy tree. Her hair looked like a mesh of fire, but she was quiet and had a friendly disposition. The lily could tell that she had been crying a bit, though. It was sad, yet comforting, to know that she had someone to cry with. Her petals slowly bent over, crying with this poor human girl who seemed to have suffered the same loss the lily has suffered.
    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The tears silently fell, hitting the ground with a silent thud. She looked over at the bold, orange lily and noticed it was wilting a bit. Poor thing, she thought to herself, wondering what to do with the exceptionally pretty flower that was slumping before her very eyes. An exciting thought came to her mind at that moment, and she began to gather up the flower and her soil, ran through the scare bushes and trees, kept a quick pace going back up the road, jogged up to her house, grabbed a near-by container, and gingerly placed the flower inside of it and took it to her room. She smiled weakly, then went to fetch some water for her new flower.
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The lily sitting in a strange place, in a strange thing, feeling very out of place. The nice lady snatched her up and brought her here, gently placed her in an alien 'container', and walked away. The lily was struck with grief, for she realized she would never get to see her Foxglove again. A pang of jealousy struck her hard, but then the firey girl appeared back into the room with a fresh container of water for the poor lily. It tasted like the pond water, and she wonder where she got it. As if answering her question, the sweet lady just smiled and said, "I hope you like it. I got it from the pond I'm sure you're fond of." It was delicious, and she was finally feeling something in her life she surely hadn't before; happy.
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Atleast the lily can be happy, she thought, quite pleased with herself. If only she could get over the loss of him. Then she'd be happy. Until then, she'd just have to take care of Lily, her lily, and hope for the best. Certainly, if a beautiful flower like her can be happy, then so could she...