username; littlefox11
name; Laurel
gender; female
prompt;
Laurel hated hospitals.
She scuffed her paws along the squeaky white floor and stared hard at her tail, trying to shut out the lines of kals passing by her mother's bed. She could feel their judgemental eyes boring into her, knew beyond doubt the hushed whispers echoing back to her as they moved along the ward were centred around her.
I'm sorry, she thought desperately. These were all I had.
The bed opposite her mother's- Laurel could just see it through the curtains- was surrounded by the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen. Roses, tulips, flowers Laurel couldn't even name but wow could she appreciate. They were all the colours of the rainbow, exuding radiance and vitality and health. They were replaced daily by fresh beauties, the kals that brought them full of positivity about their loved one's prognosis.
Laurel looked down again at the scraggly handful of daisies she'd plucked desperately from the ground before entering. They drooped over her paws. These definitely do not symbolise health.
There was a stirring movement in the bed beside her, and Laurel got eagerly up. Her mother smiled at her- a tight, painful smile. "Morning," she mumbled. "Did you bring more flowers?"
A wave of shame hit Laurel square in the chest. She chewed her lip, feeling sick. Nervously she raised her offering to her mother's line of sight, her paw shaking slightly as she did so. "Here," she whispered.
Her mother nodded slowly with resignation, her eyes sliding shut again. "Thank you, sweetie," she mumbled. "Put them with the others, hmm?"
Swallowing hard, Laurel reached up above the bed and placed the limp bundle of flowers alongside those she'd already brought. Some dandelions, more daisies, a few weedy buttercups. Despite her best efforts, Laurel couldn't afford anything better, and it made her feel awful. Her mother had always loved flowers, describing them many times as 'bright windows of nature' and 'beautiful messes of colour'; flowers were the best way, her mother had always said, to express love and positivity and health.
But Laurel, casting a jealous glance at the bed opposite- the visiting kals had just returned, with their daily gift of fresh, flowing flowers- simply couldn't scrape together the money to bring the beauties her mother wanted. And looking around, very few of the beds had plentiful flowers; clearly many of the stressed, tired, worried-looking kals waiting, as she was, around the beds were in the same position as she was. Suppressing a sigh at the unfairness of it all, Laurel pushed herself to her paws, kissed her mother on her powdery forehead and left the ward.
The next day, as Laurel re-entered the section of the hospital where her mother slept, she stopped with a gasp. All around her was the most beautiful floral arrangement she had ever seen. Sunflowers towering overhead, bright yellow and cheerful. Roses of all shades- dusty pink, deep purple, flawless crimson, bobbing gently. There were pink and white orchids, white and orange and pink tulips, flowers Laurel had never seen before and could only goggle at.
They lined the windows, rested on bedside tables, overflowed from desks. Flowers covered every surface in the ward. Laurel could only guess at how much it had all cost.
She stopped a passing nurse and indicated, speechlessly, at the arrangements. "What... who...?"
The nurse laughed, bustling past. "One of our patients recovered enough to go home this morning, and thought the place could do with this donation to cheer the other patients up. I think it's worked, don't you? Everyone seems so much better today!"
For the first time Laurel noticed the bed opposite her mother's was now empty, and a wave of gratitude passed over her. She moved over to her mother and resumed her seat, unable to stop grinning as she basked in the colours surrounding her. Seeing the exclamations of pleasure from other patients and their visitors as they saw the flowers, a small idea began to blossom deep in her brain.
And when, a few weeks later, Laurel won a grant to allow her to start up a charity donating flowers to patients who couldn't afford them otherwise, she never looked back. Seeing the improvements it made to the wellbeing and outlook of the patients she helped, Laurel knew there was nothing she'd rather be doing with her life.
name; Laurel
gender; female
prompt;
Laurel hated hospitals.
She scuffed her paws along the squeaky white floor and stared hard at her tail, trying to shut out the lines of kals passing by her mother's bed. She could feel their judgemental eyes boring into her, knew beyond doubt the hushed whispers echoing back to her as they moved along the ward were centred around her.
I'm sorry, she thought desperately. These were all I had.
The bed opposite her mother's- Laurel could just see it through the curtains- was surrounded by the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen. Roses, tulips, flowers Laurel couldn't even name but wow could she appreciate. They were all the colours of the rainbow, exuding radiance and vitality and health. They were replaced daily by fresh beauties, the kals that brought them full of positivity about their loved one's prognosis.
Laurel looked down again at the scraggly handful of daisies she'd plucked desperately from the ground before entering. They drooped over her paws. These definitely do not symbolise health.
There was a stirring movement in the bed beside her, and Laurel got eagerly up. Her mother smiled at her- a tight, painful smile. "Morning," she mumbled. "Did you bring more flowers?"
A wave of shame hit Laurel square in the chest. She chewed her lip, feeling sick. Nervously she raised her offering to her mother's line of sight, her paw shaking slightly as she did so. "Here," she whispered.
Her mother nodded slowly with resignation, her eyes sliding shut again. "Thank you, sweetie," she mumbled. "Put them with the others, hmm?"
Swallowing hard, Laurel reached up above the bed and placed the limp bundle of flowers alongside those she'd already brought. Some dandelions, more daisies, a few weedy buttercups. Despite her best efforts, Laurel couldn't afford anything better, and it made her feel awful. Her mother had always loved flowers, describing them many times as 'bright windows of nature' and 'beautiful messes of colour'; flowers were the best way, her mother had always said, to express love and positivity and health.
But Laurel, casting a jealous glance at the bed opposite- the visiting kals had just returned, with their daily gift of fresh, flowing flowers- simply couldn't scrape together the money to bring the beauties her mother wanted. And looking around, very few of the beds had plentiful flowers; clearly many of the stressed, tired, worried-looking kals waiting, as she was, around the beds were in the same position as she was. Suppressing a sigh at the unfairness of it all, Laurel pushed herself to her paws, kissed her mother on her powdery forehead and left the ward.
The next day, as Laurel re-entered the section of the hospital where her mother slept, she stopped with a gasp. All around her was the most beautiful floral arrangement she had ever seen. Sunflowers towering overhead, bright yellow and cheerful. Roses of all shades- dusty pink, deep purple, flawless crimson, bobbing gently. There were pink and white orchids, white and orange and pink tulips, flowers Laurel had never seen before and could only goggle at.
They lined the windows, rested on bedside tables, overflowed from desks. Flowers covered every surface in the ward. Laurel could only guess at how much it had all cost.
She stopped a passing nurse and indicated, speechlessly, at the arrangements. "What... who...?"
The nurse laughed, bustling past. "One of our patients recovered enough to go home this morning, and thought the place could do with this donation to cheer the other patients up. I think it's worked, don't you? Everyone seems so much better today!"
For the first time Laurel noticed the bed opposite her mother's was now empty, and a wave of gratitude passed over her. She moved over to her mother and resumed her seat, unable to stop grinning as she basked in the colours surrounding her. Seeing the exclamations of pleasure from other patients and their visitors as they saw the flowers, a small idea began to blossom deep in her brain.
And when, a few weeks later, Laurel won a grant to allow her to start up a charity donating flowers to patients who couldn't afford them otherwise, she never looked back. Seeing the improvements it made to the wellbeing and outlook of the patients she helped, Laurel knew there was nothing she'd rather be doing with her life.