Today’s word prompt is flower. I added an “s” to mine, so sue me. LOL! I started a new short story to fill the time between finishing the rockstar story and starting NaNoWriMo on November 1. I have a daily writing schedule and I hated to be idle for the 12 – 15 days left in October so I decided on a short little Valentine’s Day story. Check out the other stories using the word flower this week. LINK
Snow fell in big flakes, covering the ground fast. Mattie sat at the window and watched it in silence until the dirt in the yard turned white. Huddled in her blanket and nursing a cold, she sipped on the now lukewarm cocoa she’d made before she bundled up. February was always the worst month of the year. No flowers bloomed naturally up here in the clearing where her father lived and even if some did, the weather would kill any brave little soul who tried.
Every year, Mattie’s brother, Jacob, would take time away from the home on the mountain and Mattie would come stay with her father. Their family ran a camp nine months of the year and February was the easiest time for Jacob to take a vacation himself. Since Mattie’s career was in the city, she took her time off then as well.
“Are you still feeling poorly?” Her father rolled himself into the room.
Waving a wadded up tissue over her head, Mattie didn’t take her eyes off the snow wafting down outside the window. “I don’t think I’ll ever be normal again.”
“Since you’ve always prided yourself on not being normal, that shouldn’t be a shock.” He continued to come toward the window and stopped when he arrived beside the wingback chair where she sat.
“Very funny. You know what I mean, Dad.”
“I think part of this is the February blahs. You’ve gotten them every year since you were born—well, maybe not the first two or three—but you know what I mean.”
“I don’t think the blahs can cause a fever. Feel my forehead. You’ll see it’s hot.”
“I have no doubt you’re ill. You coughed enough last night to keep people in the next county awake. I’m merely pointing out that you could be making it worse by holing up here with your old man. You should get out. Go to that dance at the club tomorrow night. I’m sure you have something suitable to wear even if you didn’t pack for the party since your closet still has some old stuff in it. You could also raid your mother’s clothes. I kept them all in the spare closet in the guest room.”