This is in reaction to @mariannewest/day-1907-5-minute-freewrite-wednesday-prompt-old-snob and also my first contribution here!
An old snob sits on a crooked wooden bench under a camphor tree in a public garden. She shoots disapproving glares at the children running loudly past her, doubles down with looks that could kill their parents, strolling behind them, herding them away from her. She looks offended at the sight of other people. How dare these average people enjoy her garden? How dare these little human beings stomp on her beds of flowers? In all her years of looking down, the old snob never realised that all the beauty she tried desperately to keep to herself belongs more to those kids than to her. At the very least they brush up against the garden, mush their toes in the mud and run with the butterflies. All she can do is sit and glare, nose in the air, too far away to smell a single thing.
