Snow glittered over the flowers. Creamy buds, tips blushing champagne yellow, peeked out of the frail white ground cover. Cardinals chirped, dancing from branch to branch in a furry looking pine like flashes of blood.
Smiling, Jagana mindlessly stitched a sunburst pattern onto the king’s nightshirt. She hummed happily.
If only I could have a child as bright as blood, as sharp as snow, and as robust as winter flowers. She would be my greatest pride.
Turning back to her work, Jagana felt a prick on her finger. A dark drop of blood dripped onto the starch white collar of the king’s shirt. She gazed down at it, struck by its deep color.
And a daughter as dark as life itself. Yes, that would be best.
Written: 12 Feb 2016
Inspired: “Snow White” and snowbells
Jagana “strawberry death” ← Jagoda + Morana (Slavic)