“The greatest treasures are those invisible to the eye but found by the heart.”
She would always take her umbrella with her on trips. She would return home and open it on warm summer evenings, her room would then smell of the Mediterranean, and then she would close it and put it back in her cupboard again.
She had always wanted to make a paper crane. Sitting on the bright sun-kissed windowsill, she would try and fold a piece of blue paper into intricate folds. And when the paper would become wrinkled, she would crumple it into a ball, throw it out of the window and watch it fall on the busy street below.
She would glance at him every now and then, and when their eyes would meet across the room, her heart would start beating faster and she would blush.
Sometimes when everyone would be out of the house, she would tiptoe into her mother’s room and try on her jewellery. Fora few moments, she’d close her eyes and imagine herself to br tall and beautiful. Then she would look at her reflection in the mirror, put it all back in its place and close the door behind her noiselessly.
She would always take a book with her on the meadows. Once there, she would lay her head on it and watch birds flying in the clear blue sky.
When she could not get up from bed anymore she would sit pensively and look at the vase of white peonies on her bedside table. She would sigh, and let teardrops fall gently down her pale cheek.
When she was taken to the Mediterranean to see the bright sun for the last time, she did not take her umbrella with her.