Echoes

She found that the first word her velvety pencil started to scribe was a "tear".  She wasn't feeling sad, but a tear reminded her of a crystal chandelier her beloved nan used to have. 

She closed her eyes, and started seeing the sun's bright rays reflecting on each of the crystal drops, and how hints of the rainbow shades coloured the walls of the room.  She saw her nan passing through the isles of flowers in the garden, with her hands clasped behind her, and her cheeks as pink as the roses she loved.  


She heard the tune of an old song, chanted by that missed compassionate voice, heard from behind the windows overlooking these isles of pink roses. Echoes of innocence; echoes of beauty.. she thought.


The four letters of a tear, made her smell her past. Four small letters made her realise that beauty lays within sadness and happiness. Beauty of a tearful eye, can bring the most vulnerable emotions, waves and waves of echoes, dear and far beloved echoes. 

She opened her eyes, to find one word sitting in the middle of the page, smudged by a wet spot. She opened her eyes, but she can still see that lady chanting her old song, and smelling these pink roses.