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Sea Of Purple
different century playing alongside some of the finest musicians of
the baroque era. Maybe she could be sitting next to Mozart as he
scratched out the final notes of a symphony. But reality always
found a way of returning and slowly the serenity became menacing.
’
Thanks to her position roughly three hours away from the nearest
city, in Mansfield, life around her thrived: she was embraced by
fecundity. Her property stretched all the way past the dam (where
she would find the dirt trail to lead her into town). In her shroud of
nature she felt secure. The gum trees along her drive formed a
protective wall, the rural murmurings of nature crooning her like a
lullaby.
The property required little upkeep, however that could also be
due to the fact that Susan M. was hardly the farming kind. She had
attempted to maintain a vegetable patch, but without proper
treatment and care her tomatoes had withered away and her
strawberries were carried off by birds (as though her lack of a green
thumb hadn’t already been proven by the succulent she had let die
in her apartment). Instead she decided to appreciate nature for
what it could do, well, naturally, without her meddling. She did not
find herself particularly enamoured by her surroundings. The long
grass had been baking in the sun for so long it had started to look
like brittle straw. Gnarled tree branches that resembled grotesque
skeletons jutted out along the landscape. However she did find she
felt a certain affinity towards the Paterson’s Curse, a herb native to
Europe brought over in the 1850’s. She knew that it was an ‘alien
weed,’ yet could not suppress the joy the vibrant purple flowers
brought her. Spanning across the hills the purple haze resembled a
rolling ocean. She had received numerous complaints from
surrounding properties, yet the serene calm she felt exuding from it
surmounted any complaints she could receive. The Paterson’s
Curse reassured her, made her feel like less of a curse herself. Her
purple sea.
’
On this late winter morning Susan M’s playing was interrupted by
the sound of the van making its way up her drive. Irritated that her
playing was cut short, yet still eager to receive the order she had
placed, she made her way over to the front of the house. The gravel
grated underfoot. Her skin had hardened from the cold (the winter
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