Girl On A Walk: flash fiction

She pulled the black tall rectangle gate toward her, creating a passable gap between the gate and the wall beside it.

She walked through the gap, and let go of the gate which made a soft elastic sound as it slowly closed the gap she made.

In front of her were two tall palm trees she was accustomed to greeting whenever she came out from her compound. Each tree was packed with green balls of coconut. She could swear they were ripe though they were green because they were the typical ones she has seen on Ticktok videos where creators cut them in different stylish ways and extract the water from them.

But she wasn't craving coconut water at the moment, she just wanted to walk, even though she was clueless about what her bearing should be.

She looked to her left and considered taking its route, then looked to her right and considered taking its route too.

She bit down her lip and moved her eyeballs without shaking her head as she considered which route to take.

“I often walk the left” she argued with herself. A convincing point that won the right route the case.

As she walked, she could hear the hush complaint of the sands on the tared road when the flat soles of her black Crocks kissed with them.

She could also hear the long vines of palm trees as they tapped harmoniously on a tree she couldn't name but had normal usual shaped size leaves.

She heard the cawing of pied crows as they flew in circles in the sky and thought “How annoying!”

Beneath another unnamed tree, sat two men. From their voice she could tell were either far in age or the mark of life's cruelty shown by their slender bodies and popping veins, has long been crested upon them.

“Nothing can happen to me,” one man said, and the still road carried his voice like an echo.

Right past where the men sat, her eyes fell on a small grassland with flowers of lilac petals. Uncertain if they were grasses or flowers, she moved toward them for a closer look.

But they stood too pretty to be grasses, yet their stalks too green and slim to be flowers.

Away from them and on she continued on her path, not certain of neither bearing nor what she wanted from the walk.

Her brain had been cloudy and her belly, fatty. She wondered if she should walk briskly or slowly, to take in the air and let nature waft her senses with bright light so the clouds in her brain would vanish.

She couldn't decide on which was more important, so she kept her pace, listening to the sound of the soft breeze and watching as the leaves of trees danced to it.

Further down she treaded, till she came to a halt by a house with flowery plants of red Ixora and a plant she had never seen before.

Its leaves, which were shaped like a 5-petal-flower, appeared to turn purple over a photosynthetic time.

For fear of itching or any possible reaction that may not be pleasant, she refrained from touching or smelling it, but they danced in her eyes like they were the finest shade of purple she had ever seen.

For her memory, she reached into the pocket of the brown leather shorts she wore and pulled out an Infinix mobile phone, which she used to collect photos of the purple flower.

Then she resolved to keep walking, not for her brain or her belly, but for as many flowers as she could find.

And so it became her mission. To take pictures of every flower she came across, so long as they were unique in her eyes.