As you wish…
I found these two in conversation in Erskineville yesterday. Seated on a roll of lawn behind the railway station, he seemed to have forgotten for a brief moment that they were just dandelions.
She was gazing into the setting sun, murmuring of her aunt’s tales of wild grass on lonely expanses of the Southern Highlands. She dreamed of morning mist drifting through temperate bushland and glimpses of snow-capped Brindabellas – a world away from terrace houses and drunk emo teenagers staggering from the back-end of King St.
The orb of sunlight captured in her crest of seeds dazzled him. As much as he desired to hold her, he knew by her full-bloomed sway that he could not keep her. Her heart was alight for foreign lands, and he couldn’t help but bend to hide his empty frame.