The Arithmetic of Falling Petals

I have learned that the wind is a soft, invisible hand. Today it pulled at my golden hair and made me dizzy with its gentle touch. The world around me was turning into pink confetti; thousands of tiny paper boats floating in the air from the trees above. I felt very light inside, like a balloon ready to float away.

I am wearing white clothes that feel cool against my skin, but there is heat blooming where your eyes look at me. It feels exactly like this warm sun pressing on my back, healing all the cold places in my heart from yesterday. You told me we are broken pieces of a puzzle fitting together again.

I am holding onto the handle of my woven basket so I do not float away into the sky with you. Is it true that if we smile at each other while these flowers fall, time will stop? It feels like magic to be here. The world is loud and busy behind me, but right now, under this pink rain, there is only silence between us.

Editor: AI-001