Curate, connect, and discover
@flashfictionfridayofficial
The Princess had reached the right age to marry. Her father picked some young noblemen and noblewomen from families that he had an allyship with as marriage candidates. However, when he presented his daughter the options she rejected all of them. "Father, I'm in love with my best friend. I will marry her or no one at all."
The King was not satisfied with that answer because he was in conflict with that family. "I don't believe you're really so in love with her. You'll have to prove it. Next week I host a masquerade ball in celebration of my birthday. Show me you still recognise that girl when her face is hidden under a mask."
The Princess agreed.
A week later the masked Princess entered the ball room. It was crowded with guests from all over the country. A few of them dared to ask the princess for a dance but she declined them all. Soon she spotted her friend in her heavenly blue dress. She was masked but the Princess could still see how her smile lightened up her whole face when their eyes met. "Will you dance with me?"
"I saw you dancing with her the whole night, how did you recognize her?" the King asked the Princess the next day.
"That was easy, father," she answered. "She wore the dress we sewed together last year and a necklace I gave to her."
"That's not fair," he said. "I still don't believe you're really so in love with her. You'll have to prove it again. Next week I host a party in celebration of the anniversary of my reign. Show me you still recognise that girl if you go there with a blindfold on."
The Princess agreed.
A week later the blindfolded Princess entered the assembly room. She bumped into a few acquaintances but she left them alone as soon as possible. She went to the terrace, one of her friend's favourite places. "Hi?"
"There you are, I was already waiting for you!"
"I saw you talking with her the whole time, how did you recognize her?" the King asked the Princess the next day.
"That was easy, father," she answered. "She wore the same perfume as always and I can recognize her voice everywhere."
"That's not fair," he said. "I still don't believe you're really so in love with her. You'll have to prove it again. Next week I will have dinner with the noble families of this city to celebrate my successfulness. Show me you still recognise that girl if you can't see, hear or smell her."
The Princess agreed bitterly.
A week later the Princess entered the dining hall, her eyes, ears and nose covered. She sat the whole evening quitely besides the King.
"You did not recognize her this time, did you?" the King asked the Princess after the guests had left.
"No, but neither did you," she answered. "Look, I am not your daughter. The Princess left this morning, with her girlfriend."
"But why?" the King cried.
"You proved her you don't really love her."
@flashfictionfridayofficial
“I always knew you were the weed of the family!”
“Don’t you understand how you ruined everything for us?”
Usually my parents told me their criticism at least in pretty euphemisms. Maybe I had crossed a border by dropping out of university for the third time but I just couldn’t find the right programme.
“Please, believe me this time I really,” I swallowed my tears away, “I really tried my best.”
“I don’t think your best is very good then,” my mother told me. My sister laughed a bit but I didn’t think it was funny. I actually didn’t believe she was really joking.
“So what is your plan now?” my sister asked. I didn’t know. “Are you going to an art school?” She had been telling me my whole life that I just should go to art school. But for art school you have to be good at art. I wasn’t good; I just really enjoyed it. My sister didn’t really know the difference between those because whenever she is enjoyed something she was also really good at it.
“Well, I haven’t really had time to draw or paint the last months so my chances to get accepted are… like, zero.”
“In my opinion it is not-” my father began but I already knew what was coming. We’d had this argument many times before. He thought art wasn’t a serious career.
“I’m going for a walk,” I announced. Our home felt too cramped for my father’s anger, my mother’s disappointment, my sister’s hubris and my… everything.
“No. We have to talk about-” I slammed the door. I wasn’t ready to hear about all my mistakes again.
When I was outside I didn’t know where to go until I heard cheerful voices from the playground. It used to be one of my favourite places. The slide looked more dilapidated then I remembered though. The lawn wasn’t well maintained either. It was full of dandelions. Adults always thought they are a weed.
“Whoo!”. Two boys went down the slide. The smaller one looked a bit scared but an elder lady, I think their grandma, catched them. Grandpa applauded. “Watch out, madame!” I dodged the ball that was coming my way. It landed in the bushes behind me. I picked it up and threw it back to the girls who were playing soccer. “Thank you so much, madame!”
I sat down on the swing. It squeaked. I watched the children and their grandparents play. It made me sad to see this place turned into such a ruin but they didn’t seem to be bothered by the state of the playground at all.
“Do you want a dandelion?” one of the children handed me an overblown flower. I thanked her, my voice still sounding as if I was about to cry.
“You have to blow it.” I did. “Make a wish,” she whispered. I wish....
The flower fluff flew away. I wish…
I wish everyone would realize that dandelions are not a weed. No, I wish everyone would know that even if a flower is blooming in a place where it doesn’t belong, it’s still a flower.