Sunflower

• Issac Clifford, Grade 9, Cressy District High School
• Short Story
• 2013

Finalist in the 'Dream Big 2013' competition

These sunflowers are so bright; you told me they were like a thousand little suns all staring up at their mother, yearning for her attention and being rewarded with the warm smile she gave them.
I think I’ll go blind staring at them for so long, and so I move on and into their depths, the hill that overlooks them mirroring the one I can see you on, so far away.
They’re enveloping, the sunflowers, and I love it, feeling the mixture of shade and sky as I jog by; there’s no rush. It’s such a nice day, why waste it?
Bees and ladybugs buzz by with their own business, the world of insects as interesting as the world of man, more so, in some cases. I leave them be though, allow them their joys so I can carry on with mine. That joy being you, I suppose.
It’s strange, such a thought; dear and loved, but a strange thought nevertheless. I don’t deserve a person like you; so radiant, so bright, so beautiful. Yet you take interest in me, a thought I’d never entertained as I gazed at you from across the schoolyard, always happy just to see your face each day.
Is that the reason you took interest, because I didn’t? I hope not, you’re the reason I get up each and every morning, I don’t want you to think differently.
I realise I’ve come to a standstill, just watching you dance atop the hill, barely visible through this canopy of sunflowers, and I continue on at a slower rate. I see your dress flutter and twirl, sharing the same colour as your hair, which in turn shares the colour of the flowers I am surrounded by, it would be in that order.
You always called me such a nerd for speaking chronologically, I thought you’d been insulting me, and I didn’t really mind. Everyone did. But it was a tease, a light poking of fun that most people identify with as the flirting only children practice, now that I know that, I am astounded I didn’t see it myself.
The smile that creeps onto my face is self-deprecating, for all my smarts I can be pretty thick. But in any event I continue, reaching the base of the hill where the flowers end, it’s almost a shame to leave their warm embrace, like saying goodbye to an old friend.
You’ve stopped and turned to me, and I give a short wave, my other hand keeping the strap of my bag in place. You return the gesture, the former anyway, and I soldier on up the last part with as much confidence as possible; I might be overdoing it.
Of course this all breaks down when you kiss me, and I feel my knees go weak in your warmth and love, and I can’t help but remember my little train of thought;
For all my flaws, you still love me; enveloping me, just like these sunflowers.