by Wren Salazar

A flower once bloomed for me. In it, I saw the face of a man. He spoke gently, his voice carrying a soft demeanor. He spoke of a place he recalled with such clarity. Illustrious and illuminating, this place. I wouldn’t believe a word of it, just how could I? He’s a flower, simple as can be. With roots in the ground and forced to face one way. Sensing my suspicion, he regaled me with a tale. Another lie I could only assume, but it wasn’t just that. It was a lesson as well. For he could leave whenever he pleased. A traveler and a nomad. When he wished, he simply closed his eyes and dreamt. Little did this flower know, I couldn’t dream. So, I stomped him. Plain as can be, jealous as I can be.

Wren is an artist and story writer looking to add some whimsy and curiosity to those around her. A lover of all things, Wren seeks to help others around her with advice or humor. She can be reached at ws81@humboldt.edu.