The Perfect Sunflower

Juneteenth 2023 Short Story

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There I stand. My body riddled with battle scars. The field littered with bodies of the fallen, comrades and enemies. At my feet the head of my adversary’s general rests.

I feel my life fading.

The bodies grow, growing into towering sunflowers that reach into the sky. Those of us who cling to life reach out, touching the sun’s rays. Rays that morph into faces of the past. Ancestral beings of former glory. They are delighted. They sing songs of pride for those they greet.

They deserve this lovely send off for their sacrifice.

So much love. So many tears. I am happy for them.

I reach out for the sunlight. What warmth I feel.

The sounds of laughter and songs of my comrades’s names fill the air. One by one they are carried off by their ancestors. Waving joyously with smiles on their faces. A glorious end for glorious people, a banquet of love.

I stand alone.

The field once large and spacious, now smaller and smothered with sunflowers as tall as the heavens. I reach towards the light again. I long to hear my song.

No one comes to sing. No one rings of pride.

Alone I stand, hands toward the Sun, in silence. A fitting end. What man sends their kin to die and believes his ancestors proud.

NO.

I sing the names of the fallen. A smile on my face as I lose strength. A smile on my faces as I feel the Sun’s warmth one last time. Silence followed by more silence.

I stand in the sunlight, glorious. The perfect sunflower.

At least the Sun is warm.