“Here,” Junia said, thrusting the pot at her. Eloise studied the plant. It was nothing like the cheerful plants beaming from the entrance of the Desert Grocer. Cheerful mums, luscious roses, velvety lamb’s ears. This plant didn’t have a sensual beauty or intoxicating scent. This plant had presence- a refined stately elegance in its thick determined stem, a steely green strength in the toothy leaves.
“Thank you,” she said automatically.
“Me and Livvy were talking and we agreed that Angelica was just the thing for your front gate. “
Eloise glanced at it again, then at the Poseiden statue guarding the gate. “The front gate, really? I was thinking of some roses.”
Junia waved her hand dismissively. “Roses? No. Not that beauty doesn’t have it’s place but let’s be frank pretty things are easy enough to find.” Her eyes touched the scars of Eloise’s throat steadily, and Eloise swallowed. Fought the urge to cover herself. Junia’s voice softened.
“This isn’t meant to be pretty. It’s meant to be strong. Protection for a wild heart. And what better way to greet guests than that?”
Eloise refused to meet Junia’s eyes, staring at the plant with suddenly blurry vision. For a moment, the green shivered and reshaped itself and a solemn face was staring at her from the nest of leaves
…Just as I get into the groove of the dancer’s, the character’s of The Siren’s Lament come to me and demand their story be told. Lol. My muse is fickle and frustrating. That kind of day where you have several different characters from different stories shouting at you to tell their stories all at once? Nope, not schizophrenia. Just a day in the life of a writer.