Country Lilac

“The lilacs near the cottage are especially lovely during the early summer. Mother and I …”



He droned on but I really wasn’t paying much attention. I hardly ever did. And certainly didn’t need to. A well timed “uh huh” and “oh really” was more than enough to keep my end of the conversation going. After all I was little more than window dressing, a showpiece for his arm.



'Lilac, like love, makes no distinction.

It will open for anyone.'



“You were splendid. Everyone just adored you; in fact several ladies inquired …”



There was no better compliment for him than jealousy over me. The more they wanted to be me, the more of me he wanted. What I wanted? Well that never mattered. Not then nor now.



'… the city lilacs

release their sweet, wild perfume

then bow down, heavy with rain.'



Some days I cry.

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A flash fiction piece for d’Verse Prosery: City Lilacs. The prompt was to write a flash fiction piece of 144 words or less including the line
‘…city lilacs
release their sweet, wild perfume
then bow down, heavy with rain.’
from the poem City Lilacs by Helen Dunmore