Flowers: Sun and Lush Pink Flowers Essay

Leaning against the splintering wood fence he peers at the small cottage opposite his. Lush pink flowers with red tips bloom in the summer sun in the cottage’s surrounding garden, flowers that could cure his mother. In a broth or stew the healing powers of the flowers would be more than enough to lift the fever plaguing his mother. He would just take the flowers if he could but the precious petals do not belong to him but a great sorceress. From rumors that have slipped his way he has heard that she is not all that welcoming and certainly not one for sharing what is hers. The young boy has been plotting for sometime now, how he could snatch the flowers in the dead of night guarded by the tree’s branching fingers casting shadow under moon light, or sneaking into the garden while she was out collecting herbs in the nearby forest. The forest also known as the maze is feared by most of the village. Its dark winding dirt paths lead on forever and the further in you venture the less likely you will ever walk back out.
Finally he concludes the best way to get the flowers back to his mother is to take them while the sorceress is out. He could then run back across the lane to the safety of his own cottage. With the plan falling into place he swiftly turns on his heels away from the porch and walks into his bedroom. Straw on the floor crunches beneath his feet as they tap at a quick pace along the cobbled floor. He grabs a small leather satchel no bigger than a loaf of bread and fills it with a couple vials of water and straw padding to avoid the flowers being damaged.
‘I am goin’ oot tae the village maw’ he calls through to the next room
‘O’right, but be nae mair than a hour or twa’ Angus!’ She splutters. With the illness heavy on her breath the rasping indicates she hasn’t got much time. He flings the strap over shoulder and without a second thought he is back out on the porch waiting for the sorceress to leave.
About three hours pass and the sun is just falling behind the mighty oak trees when she decides to depart. Still alert he moves silently towards the small cottage. The creaking gate makes him cringe as the small squeak of the hinge sounds like thunder in his ears. He ducks behind the stone wall surrounding her house and moves quickly towards the flowers. With the stem firmly in his grasp he plucks it from the soil and promptly takes four more for good measure. With the plants safely in the satchel he glances over the wall, to his horror he can see the sleek black gown of the sorceress swaying towards him. Ducking back down he sees his only option is to run down the path connecting the garden to the forest. He hesitates he doesn’t know this path and

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