Under Pink Blossoms
I grew up in Japan amid majestic mountains and vales. Our manor-house was paradise to me with colourful flower garden, birds, and insects.
I used to saunter around the serpentine corridors, intricate passageways, spiralling arches, and the tiny flower garden of the country-house on quiet afternoons when Granny took a nap. My grandfather had died in the dark damp room which gave access to our beautiful flower garden.
One afternoon I was walking around our flower garden when there was no noise or activity. A sweet smell of flowers hung in the air. Nature looked breathtakingly beautiful. I wanted to see those bright, bold, and beautiful flowers after the cold and dark sky of winter. Substantial warming had already occurred, causing new growth. The music teacher’s soporific voice streamed through the air into my ears from the music school. The lone dove startled me when it cooed. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I encountered a beautiful girl sleeping under a cherry tree laden with beautiful pink blossoms. Her beauty arrested me. I kept gazing at her. I spotted a pink flower near her head. I picked it up.
But she didn’t stir into wakefulness when I touched her forehead with the full-bloomed flower. Granny’s loud voice startled me. The beautiful girl just vanished and was never seen again. Maybe someday she would bring exceptional happiness.