Thỏa thuận sử dụng Liên hệ Thông tin bản quyền
It was a sad, beautiful painting.

It was a small puzzle left out of life’s picture.

It was a marigold petal falling on the roadside, silently and painfully.

Thể loại: English Rating: K Hoàn thành:
Phân đoạn: 1 Độ dài: 664 từ Đọc: 2543 lần Phản hồi: 0 Yêu thích: 0
Đăng: 24 Nov 2010 Cập nhật: 17 Dec 2010

Away Off bởi IviieGii
Author: IviieGii
Genre: Oneshot
Rating: G
Note: Please don't take this fiction away without my permission.

Away Off

[Photo is permitted by creator]

It was a sad, beautiful painting.

It was a small puzzle left out of life’s picture.

It was a marigold petal falling on the roadside, silently and painfully.

She was standing there, on the side of the street, beside her old bike, setting up the flowers. The sun hid behind the clouds. The dawn laid on the ground, making her silhouette fall into a crooked shape on the pavement. She stood still, held the basket, her glint wandering onto the street as if she was trying to penetrate the sea of people to find someone over there.

She were wearing a plain brown shirt, plain black trousers with a white cloth wrapped around her head: a typical picture of a Vietnamese woman. Simple and charming. Most people can see the simpleness by the clothes she wear, but not everyone can see the charm in her. The charm of the way she fondled the flowers, as gently as a mother takes a loving care of her child. The charm of her fortitude for life that left those wrinkles on her forehead. The charm of her lonely silhouette merging into the dawn. The charm of her beautiful eyes as she silently watched the sea of people floating pass her. The charm as she smiles at life and pretend there’s no such thing as sadness. The charm that nobody noticed. The charm that had been dimmed by the dusk of life. The charm that was just a blur. She stood still in front of a wall of shut grey door, as life went on and no one came.

As I lowered my Canon down and I now realized that not everyone could notice the grace in her, because they always see things by the lens of prejudice and indifference to people who are like her. The lens would grow dim with dust and all they would be able to recognize would be just foggy fact. It’s sad when we walk by a daisy field in a misty day and miss the white of the daisies: never knowing.

We live depending on the lens that we create ourselves and decide to see life through it, ignoring the beauty of life on the roadside.

My sister suddenly grabbed my hand as we slowly walked up to the women. My sister bought a bouquet of marigolds then she gave it to the women and said “This is for you, ma’am.” The women looked at us in surprise. She was trembling as my sister handed the bouquet to her. My sister held her hands, and for a moment, I saw tears dewing in her eyes. It was a beautiful moment, filled with warmth and love. Just a moment tucked into the rush hour. She smiled tenderly.

We gave her marigolds, wishing her happiness, love and longevity so that she would always retain her grace in life.

We were startled by a loud voice shouting at us. The women’s smile slowly faded away.

“Hey hey! Go away, go away,” a voice sounded from the house behind her.

A lady appeared, still in her pajamas, chasing the poor women away.

She said thanks to us then quickly packed up her things and went off.

From afar, through the morning mist, I still could see the glimpse of yellow marigolds shining beautifully in the sunlight.

There were petals left on the street where she had stood. They must have fallen out as she went away.

The lady came out from the house, sweeping all the trash away, included those petals. The wind took the petals away with her.

And nobody noticed.

It was a sad, beautiful painting.

It was a small puzzle left out of life’s picture.

It was a petal of marigold falling on the roadside, silently and painfully.

September 21, 2010.

Ivy Nguyen.

Thành viên
Bút danh: 
Mật khẩu: 
Chọn lọc Xem hết »
Đưa Em Về
"Tôi quay lại đối diện với hắn và hơi thở nóng hổi của hắn phà vào mặt tôi. Tôi hít vào mùi cồn vừa mạnh mẽ vừa say sưa.'Đưa em về.' Tôi thì thầm."Một đêm lượn lờ qua các vũ trường, tôi gặp hắn.Bắt đầu một cuộc chơi cả hai đều không hay biết và không muốn kết thúc.[Slash. Fic dịch.]
Trực tuyến
17 Khách, 2 Thành viên
Lishrayder, Anny