Author's Note: This is a fictional (not real) piece I wrote inspired by a dandelion I found at the park.
The city breeds business;
young men and women eager to make millions off of manipulation, intimidation,
and an inviting false smile. The city drools over the dreamers; young men and
women ambitious to make a name for themselves by memorizing poorly written
scripts, strumming busted guitars, and flashing a crooked smile. And if one is
lucky enough to find the other, the two will balance reality and dreams
together.
Elle Fitz strode
through the New York City streets, easily juggling her tasks for the day. She rushed
through her morning routine which consisted of grabbing the daily newspaper and
a freshly brewed cup of coffee before heading into work. She navigated through
the streets carefully; her new Louis Vuitton heels were not to be ruined. The young business woman was the editor for Elle magazine and as much as the job
gave her, it took equally as much. Being editor gave Elle a materialistic
outlook on the world. She no longer daydreamed of possessing better belongings;
she had them, and never settled for anything but the best the world had to
offer. She spent thousands of dollars on designer clothing and beauty products;
she kept her nails finely manicured and her hair curled to perfection. After
all, the editor of Elle magazine must
look highly professional and up-to-date with current trends.
As she neared the
magazine’s office building she spotted something vibrant and yellow peeking out
at her from between a crack in the sidewalk. It had grown right outside the
entrance of her work place. A disgusted look appeared on her face as she
murmured something about city workers not doing their jobs correctly. She
quickly kneeled down and plucked the dandelion from the ground, but as she
stood up and stared at it occurred to her that she was no longer holding a dandelion,
but a memory.
Elle had spent her
days as a child exploring the outdoors picking crab apples from trees,
blueberries from bushes and dandelions from the ground. She remembered trying
to put a dandelion in a small glass and place it in the center of the table
every night before dinner, like her mother did when she received bouquets of
flowers. But every night her mother would let out a disgusted grunt and immediately
throw the flower away. One night, in particular, she explained to Elle that the
dandelion was ‘nothing more than a weed’ and ‘wasn’t the least bit special’.
Elle struggled to understand that there was no value to the flower, it was
beautiful to her. When mentioning the flower was extraordinary to her, her mother
added ‘there are millions like it, one day you’ll notice it's insignificance’. And that is where the conversation ended.
It wasn’t until
years later that Elle understood and agreed with what her mother said. The
dandelion resembled her relationship with her ex-husband, Adam. Upon finding
him, she thought he was beautiful, inside and out. The two of them spent
countless nights at dinner parties and business gatherings. Elle believed that
the two of them were inseparable and that they were compatible on every level,
until she began to observe her husband’s co-workers. Each of the men and their
dates were following the same routine every night, much like Adam and herself.
Foolishly, Elle believed once the two were wed and living together that
everything would change and they would act like a real couple. But after months and months of waiting for things to
change Elle came to the realization that Adam was like a dandelion. There was
nothing special about the man she agreed to spend the rest of her life with and
there were several other men that were just like Adam. All men in the world
were the same and there was nothing beautiful about it. Mother was right.
The dandelion was
quickly destroyed as Elle clasped her hand shut. She looked up in search of the
nearest trash can and quickly paced towards it. She satisfyingly threw the
yellow disaster in the trash and turned to walk into her office, but not before
slamming into a stranger. The coffee cup slipped out of Elle’s hand and the scolding
liquid poured onto her Louis Vuitton heels and her exposed skin. The repeated
question ‘are you okay’ could be heard faintly through Elle’s thoughts. A tear
threatened to fall from her left eye, but she quickly composed herself and attempted
to ignore the pain. All she could manage to mumble was ‘Louis Vuitton’. She
watched as a curly haired man quickly took off the plaid shirt that was wrapped
around his waist and kneeled to the ground to dry off Elle’s shoes. The man was
dressed casually in a black tee and tattered jeans. A busted guitar hung off of
his back. After drying off Elle’s shoes he quickly stood up, flashed a crooked
smile and said, “good as new”. And strangely, she agreed with him, although she knew that
the shoes were wrecked beyond belief. Perhaps her analogy about dandelions was flawed.
