They glided, flew, almost self aware.
Their movement highlighted the miniscule currents of air that would be otherwise invisible to the human eye. The hue of the petals was almost white against the stark contrasting navy background. I was exhausted, but all the running was over. Finally I could rest.
Two or three hundred thousand stars lurked along the edges of my peripherals, attempting to invade my focus. But these superheated masses of plasma seemed insignificant now.
Everything seemed insignificant now.
The branches intruded on the surrounding area with some mixture of intent and ambivalence. They hung close to the ground, obstructing my view.
I seemed insignificant now.
I let my hand drop to the ground. There was a sharp flash of pain, but there was no point in holding the wound now.
My last breath disturbed one or two of the petals on their path towards the dew laden grass, pushing some of them to rest upon the violent red pool flowing from its source in my chest.
This wasn’t a bad place to die.