A special thank goes to Laura Fraschetti who not only translated, but also interpreted this little story for you to enjoy.
Flower © 2009 thatgamecompany
Story of a young and reckless flower, that one day decided to leave, deserting the meadow where it was born in and to see the rest of the world.
Once upon a time there was a flower whose name was… Forget the name, flowers have loads of names and this story can fit any flower. This flower’s job was…being a flower.
Everybody knows how to do it: you stick there, right in the middle of a clod – preferably soft, warm and moist – stand still all day looking around and, when the sun sets, go to sleep. Actually, this looks like the life, but like everything on earth, it has its pros and cons.
It is such a bliss basking all day in the sun, feeling its warmth on your petals, stretching your stem towards those beams, letting the gentle caress of the breeze softly touch your leaves, sinking your roots in the warm soil. There is nothing better than ‘folding’ your leaves and direct your corolla to the sun!
On the other hand, it is less relaxing being scrambled by the wind and slapped by the stormy rain – lightening, thunder, heavy rain falling down cats-and-dogs. You need to have strong roots and hold tight to the cold and muddy ground, if you don’t want to be swallowed up by the wind, which rattles you to and fro.
As a matter of fact, a flower’s life is like anybody else’s – it has its ups and downs. Everyone has its ‘job’ to do. The flower in this story carried out its own with some success and dignity, despite not being firmly convinced. If one wanted to make a comparison to a fellow man in its same condition, we would say that ‘he had strange ideas in his head’. But during the day in this flower’s head you can usually find bees, bumble-bees, lots of other insects and a hummingbird. So, if for a flower it may be ordinary to have strange things in its head, this flower of ours was no ordinary flower. It reckoned that being a flower was mainly an…..arid exercise. Yes, this was the exact expression he used – and for a flower ‘arid’ does not denote a temporary state of ‘boredom’, but something much more negative and final. No, it was no ordinary flower: it had an irrepressible desire to….leave! Let everything go and leave.
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