Gilding the Lily

Photo Fiction

Brett Paufler

Page 10

The Same Flower Lady Statue that We've Been Seeing So Much of Lately

So, there she is, the Flower Lady. She's the star of this show (and/or story). She's the cause, the deciding factor. It all comes down to her.

Flower Lady is Looking Towards the Waterfall, trees to her side (don't block her view)

And she's looking toward the waterfalls, the birds on the fence, and all the other graves we've passed on the way.

She's even got on her good shoes.

White, just like we saw down by the waterfalls.

"So, you're saying those white shoes were hers?"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous."
"Then what are you saying?"
"The white shoes called her forth."

And here I shall omit a grave marker.
It only had one name on it: the name of a lost love, one of my lost loves... or, you know, a childhood crush from school, but same difference.
Lost love, that's the key.

And so, here I can tell all.

"I'm sure if you look in the records, you'll find that her son was a fireman, died in a fire, rescuing two children, twin girls, I believe. She was devastated by the news and vowed to take her revenge, so every 59 years..."
"Every 59 years?"
"Yeah, sure. Look in the recored books, I'm sure this has happened before. And every 59 years on the anniversary of his death," how old Cupid was when he died, "the Flower Lady claims two more victims, trying to reclaim that which she lost, her one and only, most beloved son."
"Are you sure?"
"Well, either that, or she was pissed about the daisies. Come on, it's sculpted in stone, get the broad some Lilies for crying out loud. Is it that so hard?"
"What? So, she goes on some murderous rampage because her Great Grandchildren got her the wrong type of flowers?"

"Yeah, the victims had probably woven some lilies their hair... or maybe those are like Lilikoi flowers and she was trying to bake a pie, that would explain the fire."
"You really don't know squat about this murder mystery, do you?"
"What? I'm outraged! Simply outraged! I told you, lost love, ghost, Guardian Trees leveled for a new apartment complex, must I spell it out for you."
"So what do we do to stop this?"
"What? That'll be years from now. Who cares?"
"I care."
"Well, hang some fruit on the fence or something. That way when she goes a wandering, she'll find what she needs right at the gate and won't need to go any further."
"But there was fruit at the gate."
"Today. But yesterday? We didn't see any yesterday."
"We weren't here yesterday."
"That's no excuse. A person makes the commitment to feed the dead, they should stay on top of it. Just like cleaning the litter from the park. Did you see that place? A disgrace. They should deputize someone. Or better yet a tree. I bet a tree would make a good Park Warden. Maybe that one in the middle. He don't look like he takes gruff from no one."
"Especially not from some quick talking Haole telling tall tales and calling him evil."
"Um, well, I hope he makes an exception on that or I'm in trouble..."

That's it. The end.

"Ouch! What's that for?"
"Irish knock on wood, us Hawaiians sometimes pound on a Haole, knock some sense in to him, so the Gods don't have to."
"Ouch. You're making that up."
"Sure enough."
"Ouch..."

So, there it is: my story, a monument to a walk.

The Inscription at the Base of the Vertical Monument: 'Walker'

No, it's true. Even the next grave marker I saw confirmed this. (And I know some folks won't believe these pictures are in order, but they are. The whole point of the project is happenstance and to let synchronicity flow.)

And looking back at the story, I really don't know if it's any good, if the twists satisfy, if the pictures are of any interest, or if anyone actually believes that posting a picture of a garbage can's contents isn't perhaps taking this 'Found Art' thing a tad too far.

In the end, it doesn't really matter. I mean, OK, sure, this story (this grouping of web pages) is some sort of stab at notoriety... immortality. But in the end (on a long enough time line) all things must come to an end, turn to rocks and ruin, till even their memory fades... which all sounds sort of poetic, don't you think?

A Cool Headstone (Cross Looks Like a Face), twin trees in the background

Of course, sometimes in the fading, what remains can become more than they were in life. I see a Crusader's face hidden in the cracks of this tombstone.

Massive Stone Grave Marker, Coffin Sized or Larger

And this mammoth rock. If I was in the mood to continue (or tell another tale, which I won't), this could easily by the rock (boulder, colossal slab) that tops a Vampire's Tomb.

Massive Stone Grave Marker with Trees in the Background

Un-ornate, generic, it will last longer than the rest.

Cemetery Gate, Chain on Ground, Sign Upside & Down Reads: 'Closed'

But as I said, this story it over. And I will leave the other for another time.

The Next Exciting Installment of Gilding The Lily

(((Note: while the pictures are real (as real as pictures can get) all the text should be treated as fiction -- or at least, unreliable. Nothing has been fact checked. Things change. And the truth sometimes only serves to get in the way of a good story. Thus, taken as a whole, these web pages that comprise this story should be viewed as a record of one man's flight of fancy as he takes a walk on a long sunny afternoon. Nothing more. Nothing less. And most certainly, no disrespect to any individual (living or dead) is intended.)))

Gilding the Lily start
(back to the first page of this story)

www.Paufler.net
(home page)

© 2013 Brett Paufler