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Dani made a wish on the sunflower. It's false, fabric petals were plucked and lay around her feet. This carnage was due to wistfulness. She remembered the better days, when there were no shouts or veiled insults. No strikes or swipes or "accidents" landing her on the floor. She remembered how much *love* there was, and she wanted it back.

No, she hadn't lost her way. She knew to stay off the path of wishing for *him* back. What she yearned for was love and warm comfort or, more accurately, the ability to fall into trust again. 

After her wish, she swept the petals from the floor. When she had plucked them, she'd strayed from the traditional path. She pledged her own love to herself, no questions allowed. And she did love herself. Which was why she allowed herself this respite, this dive into the sadness she would otherwise avoid.

"I am worth it."

The whisper pulled a petal from her face where it must have stuck. It hung in the air for a the briefest moment, brilliant and yellow against browns and blues. Her eyes fastened on it. Followed it as it surrendered and floated to her tabletop where she left it to remind herself of the promise of the unexpected. 

*image via pixabay.com*