The Flower and The Statue (Week 1 / Storytelling)

The Flower and The Statue

          Every day Violet Duvall passed through The Garden of Art on her way to her studies and every day she paused in her steps to take a moment to say good morning to one of the Statues within it. Since the day of her first commute Violet had always found this particular Statue quite intriguing. To most passersby it did not seem particularly unique or eye-catching; it was crafted in the traditional Renaissance style of white marble that had aged to cream and grey over time and was of a man who had an athletic build with a simple white toga and a neat head of hair. His pose was ordinary and seemingly mundane, just a man standing and gazing into the distance. 

            Despite the apparent simplicity and overall average first appearance of the Statue, the brooding and contemplative gaze that was captured on the marble man’s face always enraptured Violet. Maybe it was the details, the carefully crafted lines that placed a furrow in his brow and gave a purse to his lips, which captured her attention. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, the one she couldn't be sure was actually there as no one but she could seem to see it. Still, something about this particular Statue called to her. He looked almost...sad, and the very thought of that broke her heart. 

            So, without even a moment of hesitation she dutifully bid the Statue 'Good Morning' every day on her way to her studies and 'Farewell' on her way home in the evenings. There was no obvious sign that the Statue was affected by her greetings but Violet liked to think that it meant something to the Statue, that though his expression was forever trapped in silent contemplation maybe her greetings brightened his day little by little. Sometimes she even paused to tell him a little about her life, often taking a seat on the pedestal upon which he stood as she shared a silly story or asked for advice she knew she would never get. Even on her busiest days, when she was running late and in a great hurry, she always stopped long enough to at least shoo the pigeons away from him before scurrying off with a breathless 'see you later'!

            One day Violet was asked to stay late to speak with her Professor and was not able to make her way home until the sun had long since left the sky. She had never walked home in the dark before and was quite nervous to do so. Though a kind and cheerful person Violet was also very shy and had trouble making friends, so she had no one to call upon to walk with her. Steeling her nerves and hoping for the best she began her walk home. 

            The Garden of Art was far less pleasant in the darkness of night; in fact, it was quite terrifying. The different vines and roses stretched up along the gates, almost black in the darkness. The wind blew lightly through the trees but instead of being a soft and welcomed breeze it was more of a chilling whisper. The various sculptures and Statues seemed devious and unwelcoming under the moonlight and as Violet travelled further and further into the Garden she wondered if this night of fear would ruin the image she had of her beloved Statue. In the shadows would he seem just as cruel and devilish as the rest did? Even so, Violet vowed she would still bid him goodnight, even if she did not quite have the courage to look up at him without the safety of the sun.

            She kept her eyes on her feet as she carefully continued to step forward, humming quietly to herself in an attempt to ignore all of the frightful noises of the night. When the pathway stones began to become more familiar she knew she was almost to her Statue. Keeping her gaze downward she shuffled to the base of the sculpture and, without daring to look up, whispered a quiet “goodnight.”

            “Goodnight, little flower.”

            Violet glanced up, her eyes wide with surprise and shock. Before her, bathed in moonlight, stood not her friend the Statue but instead a young man with sun-kissed blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Violet found she was transfixed by them and was almost so lost that she did not notice that this young man looked exactly as her Statue did.

            “Shall I walk you home?” He asked with a small, genuine smile as he held his hand out for her to take.

A kindness is never wasted.

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Bibliography: Aesop for Children, by (anonymous), illustrated by Milo Winter (1919)
Click image for attribution. 

" A Dove saw an Ant fall into a brook. The Ant struggled in vain to reach the bank, and in pity, the Dove dropped a blade of straw close beside it. Clinging to the straw like a shipwrecked sailor to a broken spar, the Ant floated safely to shore.

Soon after, the Ant saw a man getting ready to kill the Dove with a stone. But just as he cast the stone, the Ant stung him in the heel, so that the pain made him miss his aim, and the startled Dove flew to safety in a distant wood. "

Author's Note: While I do love writing I haven't done so in a very long time and am often extremely self-conscious about what I write. To share it with so many people, in a public domain no less, is a bit nerve-wracking. Still, I had fun writing this story and hope that it isn't too elusive. I really liked the story of The Ant and The Dove and I hope this story pairs with it well! 

I chose these new characters because their characters I already have in my heart and writing with them is always very easy for me. It was especially easy for me to imagine everything because I'm so familiar with these characters so describing the scenes was a breeze. Violet is the first character I ever wrote, years and years ago. Probably about nine years now? Dru is a character my friend wrote years ago and I thought he fit well here. (The Statue's name is Dru, by the way.)