She stared at the hibiscus flower for a while before she took out her
camera. The full bloom would last only for the day, and she would have to wait
patiently for the next. She said to her friend over tea, “I can’t decide
whether to take the time today or not, I’m so busy.” And she sipped her tea.
By mid morning, after paying bills on-line and checking e-mail, she passed
the hibiscus flower again. It stretched to the sun-drenched window and looked
regal amidst the myriad of buds on the broad, multi-limbed plant. The phone
rang, and it was her husband inviting her to an early lunch; he was meeting a
client in town at 2:00. “Well, I need a shower and am thinking of taking a
picture of this lovely hibiscus bloom, but, of course I’ll meet you. Is 11:30
okay? And she took her shower.
After lunch, she decided to run some errands, and she had not seen her
friend for ages. Her husband wouldn’t be home until late that evening, so she
called her friend after taking care of the errands. And she had dinner with the
friend, forgetting that the perfect bloom was slowly closing.
It was 7:30 that evening when she turned the key in her door. It was nearly
dark, so she was grateful for the motion light that came on when she crossed
the path. Throwing down her bags and jacket, kicking off her shoes, she grabbed
her Canon 500 hanging near the door. Without a thought, she simultaneously
flicked on the light in the room with the hibiscus and charged the camera. Her
breath caught in her throat and a silent tear fell; she dropped the camera onto
the polished-cotton chintz couch and held the shrunken bloom in her hand. And
it was too late that day.
Worthy Witness 
Nice.