Dancing Flowers

field-meadow-flower-pinkBy Zach Klimczak

The young boy had brown hair and a sad look.  He twirled his hand, and a flower danced in the air.  I walked the hill and straightened my dress.
“That’s beautiful,” I said.  The boy smiled at me.
“Can you make them dance for me?” I said.
He waved his hands and the flowers on the hill sprang into the air.  I twirled around a few times before sitting down next to him, dizzy.  I kissed him on his cheek.
“Thank you,” I said.  “Can you teach me?”
“Of course,” he said.  “All dead people can do it.”
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