(Short Story -III.) *White Flowers*

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Forgotten Dreams of Eternity: Lost Odyssey: Thousand Years of Dreams

Copyright © 2011 Sky_Knight

(Short Story -III.)

*White Flowers *

Lovely white flowers mask the town. They bloom on every street corner, not in beds or fields set aside for their cultivations, but blending naturally and in line with every row of houses, as though the buildings and the blossoms have grown up together.

The season is early spring and snow still lingers on the nearby mountains, but the stretch of ocean that gently laps the town's southern shore is bathed in refulgent sunlight.

This is an old and prosperous harbor town.

Even now, its piers see many cruise ships and freighters come and go.

Its history, however, is sharply divided between the time "before" and the time "after" an event that happened one day long ago.

People here prefer not to talk about it-the watershed engraved upon the town's chronology.

The memories are too sorrowful to make stories out of them.

Kaim knows this, and because he knows it, he has come here once again.

"Passing through?" the tavern master asks him.

At the sound of his voice, Kaim responds with a faint smile.

"You're here for the festival, I suppose. You should take your time and enjoy it."

The man is in high spirits. He has joined his customers in glass after glass until now and is quite red in the face, but no one shows any signs of blaming him for overindulging. Every seat in the tavern is filled and the air reverberates with laughter. Happy voices can be heard now and then as well from the road outside.

The entire town is celebrating. Once each year the festival has people making merry all night long until the sun comes up.

"I hope you've got a room for the night, Sir. Too late to find one now! Every inn is full to overflowing."

"So it seems."

"Not that anyone could be foolish enough to spend a night like this quietly tucked away under the covers in his room."

The tavern master winks at Kaim as if to say "Not you, Sir. I'm sure!"

"Tonight we're going to have the biggest, wildest party you've ever seen, and everybody's invited-locals or not. Drink, food, gambling, women: just let me know what you want. I'll make sure you have it."

Kaim sips his drink and says nothing.

Because he is planning to stay awake all night, he has not taken a room-though he has no plans to enjoy the festival, either.

Kaim will be offering up a prayer at the hour before dawn when the night is at its darkest and deepest. He will leave the town, sent off by the morning sun as it pokes its face up between the mountains and the sea, just as he did at the time of his last visit. Back then, the tavern master, who a few minutes ago was telling one of his regular customers that his first grandchild is about to be born, was himself just an infant.

"This one's on me, drink up!" says the tavern master, filling Kaim's shot glass.

He peers at Kaim suspiciously and says, "You did come for the festival, didn't you?"

"No, not really," says Kaim.

"Don't tell me you didn't know about it!

You mean you came here by pure chance?"

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