Flash Fiction - Albine and the Paradou


 (The Sin of Abbe Mouret tells the story of a priest who loses his memory while struggling with a fever. During this time, he falls in love with his nurse, Albine, and the two become like Adam and Eve in the Paradou. This piece is my interpretation of what happens to Albine after the forbidden event)



I am a flower. I am many flowers. I open my mouth and flowers fall from my red rose lips. They dribble down my shirt, down my skirt that covers not enough, and land on my dirty feet. I look up and see the flowers before me, surrounding me, beneath me, above me. They silently move toward me with a desire to create a new home for me. The home I used to have was ruined by him. He who loves me best. I told him that I had his child and he laughed at me. I ran from him because I couldn't bear his hypocritical laugh. The flowers saw me and took me in. They tell me that I never have to leave again. You shall never be harmed, they whisper through the bees that pollinate them. You shall be loved. I stroke their petals and feel the tremors. I am wanted here. My Paradou. Petals fall on my head, turning into a crown. I am their Queen, their rightful owner. The pollen kisses my eyelashes and the dew washes my hair, removing his stench. I can feel my heart beating faster. I am afraid, now. The flowers move closer, their roots exposed in the rich soil. The roots cover my feet and trail up my legs. I feel myself swaying, wanting to give in to what they demand of me. They want my body. They want to kill me. They want my violet-scented breath. They want my clear eyes, my damp hair, my sweaty breasts. I can feel the roots crawling up my body, trailing down the trees and strangling me. I want to give in. I want to close my eyes. I feel the roses brush against my skin. I give in. My last breath is his name. I am a flower. A rotting, bloody flower. I am the Paradou.





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