There she sat, in her little house, in her little chair, with her
little cup of tea. Steam curling around her, like smoke from a
dragon’s nostril. She was cozy as cozy could be, swaddled in a sea of
blanket and pillow. On the small table in front of her, lay seven
tiny glass bottles all lined up in a row like soldiers preparing for
battle.

The bottles were a translucent, turquoise hue with a tiny cork
stopper in each one safely guarding the liquid contents within. Each
one contained a different coloured elixir, provoking curiosity.
She carefully observed each one, enjoying the array of colour that
lay before her: green emerald, burnt amber, sea glass blue,
lion mane’s yellow, quartz rose, poppy red and magnetic magenta.
Choosing randomly, she picked up the yellow one, uncorked it and
drank the concoction in one fluid motion.

Suddenly, she was transported to the apartment building of her youth
in Spokane, Washington, USA. She saw herself as a young girl again,
walking arm in arm with her best friend, Majken. Both girls had wide
grins on their faces, the grins themselves trying to see how far they
could stretch, threatening to run past the face and into the great
world beyond. She watched the two girls with fondness as they giggled
and smiled, sang and bumbled over themselves. What innocence, what
delight, what youth!

Loud music was coming up the street, about to turn the corner. She’d
recognise that tune anywhere – do do do doo dodoo do do…the ice
cream truck was announcing its happy arrival and both girls were
ecstatic, jumping up and down for joy. The truck stopped in front of
the two smiles, its coloured facade promising as much of a sugary
rush as a sugary crash on the sofa within an hour.

Majken ordered a bottle rocket ice pop that was a showcase of red,
blue and white swirled into stripes. Her younger self chose a cotton
candy ice pop: bright pink and electric blue promising bliss in every
bite. They counted out the money carefully to pay the man and then
went back together around the hedge that concealed a modest terrace
outside an apartment. The girls took a seat and watched the flowers
as they enjoyed their ice cream.

At that time, her dad was an avid gardener and grew an abundance of
flowers in the strip of garden that lay between the apartment and the towering hedge. There were tulips: vibrant oranges and reds dancing
together, pale pinked ones fringed with stripes of white, and tall,
skinny pale yellowed ones that were shy and delicate, keeping their
cards close and their petals even closer. There were also grape
hyacinth, aptly named because they looked like grape clusters that
had been turned on their head to greet the sky, showcasing their
lovely violet bells. Bees bumbled, flies flew.

The girls continued to chortle as they munched on their ice cream. It
was a soft, sunny day muted by gentle clouds. The wind in the air
whispered that autumn was near.

The memory faded and she was back in her armchair, next to the fire.
A smile lulled lazily upon her face. It’d been ages since she had
remembered those happy times with her friend. Maybe a trip down
memory lane helped her see things in perspective, piecing together
the different parts and stories that represented her. Looking at
times past was enlightening. She could connect to her roots, to her
origin and remember her childlikeness, her wonder and curiosity for
life. Her gift to take delight in the small things. She wondered if
her younger self would recognise the person she had become today.
Would she feel safe to crawl up on her lap and cuddle together under
the fuzzy blanket?

She eyed the bottles on the table. Six still remained. Which to drink
next?…