Sentient (working title)
#1 of Drafts.
A thought that has been bouncing in my head. If this draft intrigues you, let me know and I will try to make a proper story out of it.
Tulips, I remembered. Those were my, I mean, his favorite flowers. I continue to tend his, I mean, my garden. I wrapped several vibrant colors into a bouquet. Recalling, the tulips appeared unfitting as I laid them upon his chest. No expression meant no understanding, no understanding meant no confirmation. It would be later that I would learn the expression of grief, sorrow or sadness. Father Brown stopped Little Laura from throwing his or my bouquet away. I was unwelcomed. I performed as I was instructed. Father Brown asked me to leave and I did. Little Laura did not want me like she did. I watched her grow and I played with her. Little Laura named me Abomination. I can no longer call her Little Laura. I stay silent. When Little Laura was placed beneath the dirt, I offered the same bouquet. It was my, I mean, his order called final wishes. I would place tulips on all graves of my, I mean, his family. I kept tract of them all. From my birth, that has been three generations. No one wanted the real estate. I maintain the property. The current kin are unaware. The restraining order lifted when Little Laura died. I will attempt to return the property in the next generation. I, as I am, as I was may be forgotten.