pink hydrangea

“Teardrop”

As tonight’s tale from the Hydrangea Dream Galaxy begins—

what if kindness lingered longer than memory?

⸻

Everyone called her Teardrop.

She blinked just a little more slowly than most.

Whether in sunshine or in rain,

she would sit at the far end of the long bench

at the same time each day.

In front of the bench,

there was a display of dried flowers

and a scattering of colourful potpourri—

arranged like a tiny florist’s stall.

Teardrop loved it there.

With her gentle, slow blinks,

she always took a quiet moment to rest.

One day, she noticed an elderly man

sitting on the neighbouring bench.

He didn’t seem to notice her.

From a faded envelope, creased and softened by time,

he pulled out a single letter.

He read it once,

then gently wiped the corner of his eye beneath his glasses.

Had he written the letter, or had he received it?

Was it joy, or sorrow that brought those tears?

Teardrop couldn’t tell.

But perhaps—

we remember kindness the most,

because it lingers the longest.

She softly closed her eyes.

And when she opened them again,

a droplet fell—quietly, gently—

onto a hydrangea petal blooming beneath the trees.

Was it a teardrop?

Was it the beginning of rain?