There is a land, mysteriously floating above the tallest mountain, drifting on a magical ocean, burning within a fiery volcano, secretly hidden under a young boy's bed. On this land, unicorns once grazed and fairies once danced whilst an angel flew above. Flowers of multicolours would bloom throughout the year and trees would play like children in the breeze. At night, under a starlit sky, an orchestra of soothsayers would sit in a perfect circle, playing the sweetest sounds from heavenly instruments as they sang melodies and lullabies to each other.
But many years ago, the fiery volcano suddenly erupted, the tallest mountains crumbled in an avalanche and the once magical waters suddenly began battering waves upon waves onto this beautiful land. Over time, as the molten lava flowed and overflowed, as the rocks came constantly crashing from the mountain peak and torrential rains continuously poured down, this once thriving terrain eventually became barren and lifeless. Now, in the skies, where an angel once flew, forks of lightning strike through. Where unicorns once grazed and fairies danced, lies mud and crumbling, crumbled sand. And barely visible into the north horizon, through mists and fog from the vast and empty ocean, a single light shines through - flashing an intermittent distress signal in Morse code.
This desolate and broken scene now remains lifeless and empty. With time, the volcano has eventually quietened and the mountain is too broken to crumble any more. The thunderstorms are waning but occasionally return with an unpredictable force, producing gales and floods that wipe away any chance of new growth. However, very recently, a solitary and beautiful flower, protected behind the safety of a big rock, has begun to grow. Despite the still hostile conditions, this little flower blossoms each day, seeking the warmth of any rays of the intermittent Sun. It grows stronger despite the flash floods and infertile soils. This strange flower has six unique petals, all bizarrely different colours, each as bright and beautiful as each other. Within the grey and broken landscape, this little flower provides the only colour as a reminder of the life that once was.
And yet the flower is fragile, and each of the petals would occasionally shrivel and drop off, leaving the remaining petals unbalanced and wary. The petals still grow back after falling off, often in a different colour, size and shape. But at any time, this petite and delicate flower has not had all the petals present at one time.
Each night now, when the dust finally settles and the day storms have gone, a mysterious and very beautiful woman with chocolate eyes and flowing hair would visit this unique flower. She would silently tiptoe past the potholes and step over jagged rocks to find this flower, hidden amongst the shattered debris. When she finds this flower, she would cusp her protective hands around its fragile petals and whisper to it her soul's own fragile secrets. She would nurture it, water it and feed it whilst at the same time, she would examine the nature of each of the flowers petals, sketching their shape and writing intricate notes to help her remember the variations, from week to week. The first word she wrote was hopeful.
