outdoors hc 1

The Mountains Behind Her, a Micro Fiction Story

The grass beneath her came to love her youthful blunders. The mountains behind her never looked close enough to notice. She sat in silence for a moment. It was a turbulent silence, filled with remorse for her fistful of dearly departed green blades. But before too long, a new gust of laughter flew and the blades disappeared into the mountains, beyond her worries. 

Soon the grass turned to snow. Her soft bed of green became a rigid block of ice. Where once wafted aromas of honey, pollen, and spruce now emanated the breath-taking cold of winter. She spent a long time noticing the smells of the cold. Chuckling to herself as she wondered how something so void of life can create such a vibrant smell. 

Mother insisted on snow pants and large puffy gloves which seemed to serve solely to distance her from the earth below. But she was smart enough to know that the mountains behind her had never looked close enough to notice. She’ll leave the house and Mother will fall far away, sunken into a glass.  

In the fields was where she felt most at home. No matter snow or grass beneath her feet, the earth tickled her toes and lit her aflame. Butterflies circled her unbrushed hair and danced along with their kin, fluttering under her unwashed skin. The smile she’d been taught to forge spread bright from ear to ear. Here, no one told her to smile more. Here, she’s free from her restraints. 

Today, my cracked smile and raspy laugh feel out of place in that field I once knew so deeply. I feel the mountains down my back as if they’ve finally turned to notice. Everyone has. My smile wore thin from years of performing. I wonder when the world stops neglecting and starts staring. I suppose I never looked close enough to know.