Monday, 31 August 2015

The Lady

A short story inspired by the picture at this week's Magpie Tales.



I was fascinated by the picture that hung in my grandparents hallway. As a kid, I’d stare at it for ages, laying on the rug on my tummy, my head cupped in my hands. I wondered who she was; where she was. My Granddad tried to  tell me once, but I stuck my fingers in my ears. I preferred to let my imagination set the scene.

One day she was a princess, another the Lady of the big house on the hill. Once she smelt the flowers and sneezed! In my mind, I saw her stroll through the garden picking them.  Another day she knocked them over they scattered across the floor; she said a rude word that day! I saw a handsome prince go down on one knee and present them to her. I watched her plucking the petals; he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me.

I wanted to be that lady when I grew up. Sadly I didn't although a young man did once give me a bunch of wild flowers and a daisy chain to hang around my neck. 

I don’t know who has the picture now. I can only hope they have a daughter that loves it as much as I did.

Picture: Peonies by William  Merritt Chase 1897


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10 comments:

  1. Ohhh, the wistful tone in this is perfect. I am still caught up in it... think I'll stay for a while and do the "he loves me, he loves me not" routine.

    THANK YOU for your words and what they carry with them!

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  2. Nice Rosey. Also an interesting coincidence how the name Pinkerton is in my entry today.

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  3. all your posts have such personal touch to it, like i can actually imagine you lying on your tummy and staring at the picture. Lovely

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    1. I like just to write down my thoughts exactly as they come to me rather than expanding on them or dressing them up. Not everybody's cup of tea, but that's just me!

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  4. So sweet! \Your thoughts have woven a lovely tale of love.

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  5. A very nice story about family hairlooms. Sometimes they have a life of their own.

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    1. Thank you Bekkie. They often do, certainly in the eyes of a child

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