Primrose never left the house without her paper parasol. She couldn’t bare the glare of the sun in her eyes, but the warmth of the sun was always welcome on her skin. Her parasol was also handy for shielding her from undesirables that passed by, and also from having to look the ugly parts of town. When the streets began to look grey or rubbished, she would immerse herself in her paper world, glowing and sweet scented of bamboo. As she stepped along the street from her modest house, past the small shrines that littered the street, and then through the park of plum trees, she began to hum her song that she always hummed.
People would watch her float by in her own iridescent bubble that contained her thoughts.
“Hummingbird, there she goes, where is she headed, nobody knows, not even she, with a dress full of holes, who could she be? Poor poor soul.”
The neighbourhood old ladies always sang the same song as Primrose floated by their houses. Primrose would turn and smile sweetly at their kind words. “They always compliment my parasol” she commented to a cat on the wall as she passed.
She never quite remembered where she had come from, and sometimes she even forgot where she was going, but she would stroll, and sometimes spin, revolving her parasol as she would sing!
Day after day turned into month after month, and then year after year turned into fear after fear, as she would sometimes catch her parasol in a passing bush whilst in the park, and then the sun would catch her eyes and she’d see clearly, into dark. She’d quickly remember that she was alone, and then she’d solemnly put down her parasol and walk quietly home, to her strange little house that she’d built out of stolen parasols from the town, but the shopkeepers would let her keep her stolen swag, as they never wanted Primrose to be even more sad. She was mad.
She’d sleep under the bridge, in her parasol fort, surrounded by colours that warmed every thought, and her dress full of holes looked brand new in the glow, and then she’d sleep, dreaming of all she’d once known.
Fin.