TITLE: COLOR OF HONEY
GENRE: Women's Fiction
As I walked to class, the wind slapped my face, waking me from a stupor. Wake up, Elizabeth. Life is short. Get over it and stop feeling sorry for yourself. In the distance, I saw a woman lift a baby from a carriage. The blanket billowed behind her. I averted my eyes and quickened my pace to the arboretum, fighting against the wind and my despair.
My sensible shoes clicked along the sidewalk as I passed other students. I gawked at one group collected under a tree so young they could have been my children. Domestic life in suburbia felt worlds away from this college campus. Apparently, new fashions had hatched: pierced noses, low-riding jeans, bare bellies, all inviting me to stare. I remembered wearing jeans and baggy sweatshirts in college, and had stepped into this time warp here and now. Feeling conspicuous, I adjusted my new book bag to conceal the pink and green polka dotted cardigan.
I thought about what brought me to this class and remembered the flowers that appeared on my doorstep. Such a sweet gesture, really, but perplexing as the attached note read:
Dear Elizabeth, We hope you feel better soon and wanted to share with you a class we think you would absolutely love. It is called “Plants Like People.” Hope to see you back at the club soon. Warmly, Your friends at the Forest Hills Gardening Club.
“Why on earth would the women at the gardening club send me this?”