|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Sep 07, 2018 10:33 am
A large greenhouse filled with rare plants from all over the world. It looks large on the outside, but seems to have even more space on the inside, containing various rooms with tightly controlled climates unique to each section.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 19, 2019 6:17 pm
~~~~~~Penelope Dovark~~~~~~ The Pathfinder
Botanical Professor
The blind woman quietly lounged in one of the enchanted rooms inhabited with a forest climate. The many variety of forest trees stretched so high into the sky that fog shrouded the true extent of their reach. The room looked as though someone had plucked a forest from some part of the earth and dropped it into the greenhouse. The ground was covered with dirt, and many forest plants inhabited the room, from sparsely placed blades of grass and flowers. There was another portion of the room were contained boxed specimens of rare herbs, flowers, and fungi were safely kept. It was a jaw dropping spectacle, no one would ever imagine such trees extended in a small building, nor would people believe the building had so many rooms. The spectacle was wasted on the blind woman, though she knew all about building’s strange features. Especially the unseen secrets.
Penelope laid on her back flat along the wooden bench beside an old oak tree, her longs legs bent over the end and her heels were firmly planted on the ground. Her arms hung from both sides; the back of her hand rested against the rough earth floor. She lay so still it looked as though her were a corpse. All that moved was a blue bottle that hung from her belt on a thin silver chain, it swung off the side of the bench and swung in its pendulum tempo without a breeze or the wears movement to give it momentum. A small golden bird swooped down from the tall trees and landed on one of her odd dangling braids over her face, the braid bowed and bobbed under the little bird’s weight. The small creature puffed out it’s feather till it was the size of a fuzzy golden tennis ball just over the blind woman’s nose.
A few feathers beneath the ball of fluff swayed, the soft indication that the woman was not a corpse after all as she pushed air from her thin lips. After a while the bird grew agitated with the feather ruffling and let out a loud, sweet chirp that startled the blind woman awake, “Wha-” She mumbled, the bird quickly flew off after hearing her sleepy voice. Slowly turned her head to the left, along with the rest of her body before she slipped her legs to the side of the bench as she sat up. The various trinkets she carried on her belt clanked and chimed with her movement. Her head hung low with her back arched, the bottle swinging bottle shifted between her legs. Her gaze was cloaked by her oddly braided hair. With a shallow sigh, she brought her hands together, her fingers laced as she rested her elbows on her knees. She tapped her index finger in rhythm with the swinging bottle. She released another long sigh as she felt the warmth of the sun soak into her back and straightened her posture, her jewel gaze was still concealed by her hair, “ Well, dat wus a craic noight.” She chuckled as she playfully flicked one of the ends of her dangling braids and listened to the peaceful sounds of the forest room.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
