Bear witness as Laraine channels her thoughts into her work and creates a masterpiece.
Lorikeets tittered on a lattice of honeysuckles, hopping about with their spindly legs. Laraine, clad in a frock the colour of sunset, watched them, intrigued. Playing with a strand of her chestnut hair, she nibbled on a mince pie, making a face. Molinta giggled from behind.
"The stew's done. Better help yourself."
Laraine shook her head slightly. "I'm not hungry."
Her sister shrugged and left.
Sneaking one last look at the birds, Laraine started tending to a bunch of tuberose. As she worked she could not help but stroke the lime buds with pearl white buds peeping from the gaps. "They're beautiful," she whispered, awed. Her slender hands pruned and watered them with an air of familiarity. The mouth-watering aroma that wafted from the cottage made her stomach growl, but she worked on.
This was Laraine's everyday routine. She sprinted into her garden whenever she had the least bit of time, pouring her heart out on her flowers. She hissed at any one who tried to sneak in and pick them with such a terrifying expression on her face that it made the naughtiest boys recoil.
Spring melted away soon enough. Summer came on its heels, and the sweltering heat had steadily became unbearable. In these days Laraine took extra care of the blossoms, returning to home bathing in sweat, her cheeks a brilliant shade of scarlet. At some point of time mother had put her foot down and tried coaxing Laraine out of it, but the answer was a resolute no.
"If I had started I might as well continue to the end," Laraine insisted stubbornly.
And sure enough, when autumn came, her work was worth it.
"My god," Laraine's father gasped. The family behind him gaped in unison.
The hankerchief-sized garden was a dazzling mass of colours. Late summer roses, wine red and exquisite, bloomed in a corner. Canary yellow tulips brought an aura of life into the garden. Cobalt periwinkles winked at passers. And of course, there were honeysuckles and tuberose in a wonderful clash.
Laraine beamed widely and joy bounced off her. She didn't say a word. She doesn't have to.