Two Knocks on each Door

Moral Of Story: “You never know who can be an amazing friend.” An old woman, hair frayed like a rope, skin wrinkled like a fish’s scales had pondered out to a quiet and peaceful suburban neighborhood, her intentions not noted by any of the residents of the neighborhood. She strolled the sidewalk with only a pastel vintage tote bag and a cheerful young smile. She had reflected the energy of a child although at such an age. She wore a long brown cardigan, atop a hand-knitted lavender sweater, she seemed mildly overdressed for the Florida spring breeze, but still carried on, without breaking a mere sweat. Approaching one of the smaller houses, its lawn unmowed, weeds sprouting in the sidewalk grass, its curvy path led to a paint peeling front door, wildflowers sat in many various pots.

The old woman knocked politely a few times, until the woman could open the door.

The girl’s smile wide and her face providing a natural beauty, her aura provided a glow of happiness. She wore a fairly light blue dress with puffy sleeves, she had practically  walked out of a children’s fairytale based on the description of words. 

The old woman’s interaction was quick and precise, she simply questioned for directions to a certain house in this quaint neighborhood that's address to her was unknown, the girl agreed cluelessly, which would have been naive and gullible, but the old woman’s intentions were far from any harm.

 The old woman and the girl strolled on the beige sidewalk surrounded by a variety of different houses.

A bland white and gray toned house, clean yet an immense lack of feeling

A minimalistic house accented with beige, highly perfect yet lack of flamboyance

A slightly larger, clean and filled with feeling, over perfection and flamboyance by a ton, like the ‘just right’ bowl of porridge, as Little Red Riding Hood said.

The old woman carefully walked out to this ‘just right’ house, and knocked on the freshly painted brown door, a fresh pot of flowers sitting gracefully beside it, distinguishing its lovely fragrance all around the front porch.

The old woman picked the finest rose out of her pant pocket, its floral aroma put shame to the other fragrance of flowers. She held it confidently in both her wrinkled hands, not daring to rest her large smile.

The young girl seemed extremely bewildered, she asked if she should leave but the old woman insisted on her presence. A young man in a beige button down shirt and jeans, with a humorous and caring personality opened the door. The gaze of the man and the young woman met each other softly, the honeycrisp amber and the calming sea blue compliment each other quite nicely. The old woman seemed concentrated, deep in completely unbreakable focus. 

She plucked two of the vibrantest petals from the rose's core, and handed one to the boy and one to the girl, their dumbfounded expressions striking the old woman’s pale green eyes. 

She had claimed that these little petals were only just a gift, no other context was given. The woman had watched as the two had subtly started a small talk after breaking the extreme awkward silence between them

She watched the girl's feelings, a tingle of butterflies, blushing redder than the rose. 

She watched the boy’s feelings, a sense of connection, something more than a friend.

The woman had calmly waved goodbye, and delicately walked back the way she came, her steps like weightless feathers, still jolly as ever, still not breaking a single drop of sweat. 

One long year later…

The girl and the boy, now in a deep unbreakable  relationship, had forgotten how it had started, but never forgot about the two petals, unlike normal rose petals, it did not shrivel up and decompose at all, it lay safely encased in display in a little snow globe, its amazing aroma strong as ever, a permanent air freshener for their whole house. 

They had gracefully danced across the meadow, just outside their neighborhood, wildflowers clinging to their ankles, grass poking their knees. The joy of laughter and love never faded. During their ethereal meadow frolic, they both noticed an old woman, strangely familiar, smiling softly at them, then disappearing in the blink of an eye. 

Many more years later… 

During their lovely wedding day, as the young ravishing girl walked gracefully down the aisle, she spotted an uninvited crowd guest, smiling right back at her, the same old woman. Almost stumbling on top of the large white train of her sequenced head to toe bridal gown, she justled back to her regular gait and gazed back, only to see the mysterious woman vanished from the crowd, like a mere figment of her foolish imagination.

She continued down and put on a glorious diamond ring, still flabbergasted by the utterly strange appearance of the same old woman ever so frequently throughout her life. The young girl flashed back to the woman's appearance, a lovely rose garnishing her white hair, it seemed to have a few petals pulled out, inferring based on its slight deformation on one side of the flower. Some forgotten thoughts had been pulled back in, creating new theories. It all seemed like the pieces fit perfectly, just like it was somehow… fate.

~The End~ 

Moral Of This Story: “You never know who can be an amazing friend.”

Thank you to everyone reading the story, for the most part please comment and like! I generally  wanted to write a short story with a much deeper and more highly complex meaning within its many words filling the page. The story is way more thought out and put together. I’m actually extremely proud of this writing piece because of its uniqueness from any other plot and story on this website. 

Don’t forget to comment all your opinions and thoughts below please, I’ll make sure to upvote them! Please follow my account and see you next week for another great story! Bye!