Firenze

"You'll amount to nothing!" screamed the father. His son had driven him into a fury once again. "You lazy good for nothing, what are you going to do with your life...spend it all lying around, stargazing and other such useless nonsense? You ridiculous, insolent dreamer! And everyone knows that mermaids, even though they don't exist, can only live in salt water so stop spouting such rubbish! Imbecile!"

And with these words he stormed out of the room, slamming the door of the old house behind him. But George simply smiled sadly to himself. He'd experienced enough of these kind of scenes to know that the best thing to do was to try and ignore them. He glanced at his mother who was sitting silently in her chair, the plate of honey cakes that she'd freshly made untouched in front of her. "It will be okay," he reassured her, and took one of the delicious cakes before venturing outside. His anxiously pounding heart began to ease as he made his way to the stream. As usual, the bees and dragonflies flew towards him as he approached, busily buzzing around him, using whatever devices that they knew to try and ease his wounded heart.

"Will I ever see her again?" he asked them.

"Of course you will, of course you will!" they hurriedly replied. "And don't be so sad, don't be so sad...your father's a fool and your beloved will most surely return!"

George felt his soul relaxing once more as he sat down in the long, luxurious grass. He lay on his back and watched the clouds drift by. "I should like to be a cloud one day," he thought, "hovering over the great earth, giving and receiving at the same time, with the only worry being whether to look down at the world or up at the stars." He looked around him, and, as always, his heart skipped a beat. And although he loved every single thing that his eyes could see, his heart longed for an even deeper connection. He wanted to be the bright yellow daisy that was reaching up to its brother, the sun. He wanted to know how it felt to wear the beautiful cloak of purple that was the mournful iris, which tolerated the day whilst waiting for its sister, the moon. He wanted to be the cheeky chaffinch, know the air that skipped through its tiny wings and experience the grand majesty of the crow. And although he felt deeply related with all that was around him, and had done for as long as he could remember, still he yearned for more. His ridiculous, philistine father knew nothing of this. He'd heard about it all many times, of course, but his coarse barren soul was incapable of understanding. And then...there was Firenze. His eyes glazed as he remembered her. She had touched him to an ecstatic fever of life. Never had he known anything like the feelings that he had experienced when he had been with her. But would he ever see her again?

His train of thought was suddenly broken, however, for his friends suddenly started up in dismay. The honeybees flew frantically away and the birds that had gathered around him scattered in all directions, and, to George's immense horror, and before he was even completely aware of what was happening, he was seized by three tall men in terrible white coats who wore grimaces known only to the devil. Despite his screams and wailing protests he was dragged forcibly away and locked in the back of a dirty white van, which roared angrily, and then sped away at ferocious speed.

From that moment on, a great change came over the land. It was a gradual process but all could be traced back to that moment. The first to depart were the birds, who were so filled with sorrow that they left for a distant forest where the nightingales lived, as listening to them sing was the only way that they could live with their grief. The dragonflies became larva once again and crept back into the water which soon flowed heavy with tears. The trees grew sad and shed their leaves, and all the flowers hid their beautiful, colourful faces, and before long, a terrible silence came over the landscape which it seemed had fallen into a deep sleep. And then, finally, even the nearby towering waterfall, with its ever cascading spray, froze to a complete standstill, and with this, a great silence reigned.

This state of things lasted for a thousand years and the household, now smaller due to the absence of George, was even unhappier than it had been before. George's mother, who never spoke anyway, became even more silent, but still made honey-cakes each day, even though her son whom she loved so dearly wasn't there to enjoy them. The father busied himself around the place, mumbling away constantly whilst trying to reassure George's mother that things were now for the best. "We had to do something", he would tell her. "You know how often we saw him sitting in the fields talking to himself. That's a sure sign of insanity and he's in the best place for that kind of thing now. He could have become a danger...to us, to himself, who knows? And he'll never amount to anything!" But with that George's mother would breathe a great sigh, and so his father would go back to hammering nails or something extremely important like that.

But then, one day, something that nobody could have foreseen happened. A great bee, which had somehow hidden herself in that day's honey-cakes, flew out without being noticed. Waiting patiently for the right moment, she followed George's father outside, and, although her frail wings were nearly frozen in the bitter, biting cold, she managed to follow him until he came to the old fence, which it was said had a sheer drop of over ten thousand feet on the other side. And then, all at once, she seized her chance. She buzzed manically around the ungrateful father and husband, who in absolute terror, waved his arms about frantically, attempting to hit the bee with his great hammer, when, suddenly, he became so dizzy that he lost his footing and fell through the rickety old fence that he had come out to fix, and disappeared into the depths, far, far below.

Utterly exhausted and freezing, the bee's wings now refused to work properly, and she fell shivering to the ground, her life force evaporating rapidly. But just as her little soul was about to leave her body for the great beyond, she knew beyond any doubt that she felt the surge of spring reverberate all around her. And sure enough, the land soon began to change. Without his father's continued consent, the asylum were forced to release George back to his home, and within hours of his return, life rapidly began stirring again.

At his tread, the grass and flowers blossomed suddenly in ecstasy and the trees replied likewise. The moths and butterflies came out of their chrysalises in a giant swarm of colour, and all around the insects danced with laughter and joy. The great old owl, far away in the nightingale's wood, was the first to hear with his extraordinary sensitive hearing the rejoicing coming from his former home, and when he told his many companions of the news, all the birds came hurrying back as fast as their small or giant wings could carry them. Colour and noise returned to the land, and even the moon broke its eternal nightly orbit to join the sun for one day of ecstatic rejoicing. And then, with an enormous crash, the waterfall sprang back to life, plunging down in torrents great masses of water which had lain frozen in sorrow and grief for so many years.

George sang and laughed with his friends who he had missed so dearly, and in what looked like a grand procession, they all bounded up the path to the giant pool that lay at the foot of the waterfall. They were greeted there by a carnival of colour. Dragonflies. mayflies, kingfishers...the entire scene was one of of glowing, flowing life and abundant radiance. And then, amid all the laughter and dancing, a faint splashing was heard coming from downstream. "It's Firenze, it's Firenze!" cried the approaching heron, and soon the name 'Firenze' was being spoken by all in a continuous echo around the valley. "She's come back for you, she's come back for you! they all sang to George, "we told you she would, we told you she would!" And sure enough, accompanied by her adoring damselflies that flew above her, Firenze, her sleek body glistening & her red hair shining brighter than the rarest ruby, was soon at the pool at the foot of the waterfall, where her captivating eyes met those of the utterly enchanted George.

"Firenze... I thought you had left for ever", he said, before embracing her in his trembling arms.

"I told you I would return and I meant it", she replied.

With a gentle wave of her hand, she asked their friends to give them some privacy for a moment, & they all duly obliged, although they immediately surrounded the happy couple once more!

George gazed into her sparkling eyes. They were as mysterious as life itself and he felt himself falling...falling deeper into her essence with each passing moment. Her red hair resembled wondrous flowers that don't exist yet should, and the shape of her body, scarcely hidden by the water-lilies, plunged him even further into an almost impossible paradise.

"Come with me," she said, "it's time for you to leave here."

"I am truly yours", he replied. "I know there is no way for me other than with you. But let me stay, just a little longer."

Firenze smiled her enchanting smile: "Take as long as you need."

Suddenly everywhere became quieter and still, and the only sound was that of the waterfall. The blue tit blinked its little eyes, eyes which saw so much more than human ones which fail to notice so very much. Firenze went to bathe under the waterfall, and the water at the top hurriedly fell in torrents, each drop eager to brush against her magisterial beauty whilst there was a chance. Returning to George, she teased him with a delicious kiss, a kiss laced with the force of everything that nature and dreams contain, and his soul tumbled once more.

"You are existence itself to me", he said. "Yet are you even real?"

"I'm as real as you take me to be", she replied. "With me you shall know wonders you can never imagine. I will take you to a Venice beneath the sea, show you creatures you've never known, give you a love you cannot comprehend. You know better then anyone how the miracle of life is being spoiled. Our realm is one of everlasting beauty and there will be a new beginning."

George glanced up and found that they had been joined by several magnificent unicorns that had come to drink from the pool. They were the personification of beauty and dignity.

"And my father, like so many, doubt all of this", he smiled to himself. "They are such fools."

Gazing once more at the exquisite beauty of Firenze, and marvelling also at the splendid sea-horses that surrounded her, they exchanged another smoldering kiss before he slipped into the water beside her, before whispering the words, "I'm ready."

And with that, they both looked deeply into each other's eyes, and disappeared into the depths below.

Meanwhile, George's mother, astounded at the sudden return of Spring, and drawn as if by a magical force, wandered over to the door which opened on to the garden. As she stepped outside, the handsome, cheeky chaffinch landed softly on her shoulder. They looked at each other for a few moments before he said, "Why don't you come and sit with us all on the grass, and you can meet all of your son's friends and hear their wondrous stories about life?"

"It would be a pleasure," she replied.