Odette & The Moon
Glasshouse Nocturnes Part II
The moonflowers had always turned their great white trumpets towards the moon, their jasmine-sweet fragrance tempered with the peaty scent of freshly watered soil. Until Odette appeared.
Her hair held the warm glow of candlelight, even beneath the moon. Her gown was shimmering ivory, its delicate skirt dissolving into layers of moss green and silver, scattered with tiny flowers the colour of crushed berries.
As she passed, the blooms slowly turned towards her and even after she had long gone, their gaze lingered on the path she had taken.
It was some time before the moonflowers remembered the moon.
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