The Laurel Tree

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

The Laurel Tree


… “To think these eyes may never again fall upon such beauty, however am I to bear it.”

“Now come sir, you must banish her from your mind,” adding in a whisper. “From where, no doubt, she was conjured.”

“I hear what you say, even though you say it under your breath. You think me a fool who has imagined such fairness and grace and that she never existed. Well you are wrong sir. I saw her right there by the laurel tree. Oh how heavenly a sight. Such delicate and youthful beauty as can’t possibly be imagined and indeed I did not, for she was there.”

 Lost in thought, he sighed.

“But how is it she would be standing alone in the way you describe and then be gone in an instant? Was it not just your fancy? Come, be reasonable, for it is most unlikely such a girl would come alone and be prey to whoever may pass.”

“You may think as you wish, for I know what I saw and there is no mistake in the matter. I could not, for some moments, move from this spot, for I was so enchanted. I watched as she leant against the laurel tree. Her eyes were closed and the slightest smile played on her tender face. When I had gathered my wits, I determined to go to her, but for the briefest moment my vision was turned from her and when once again I looked toward the laurel tree, she was gone. These are the facts sir, make of them what you will.”

 Again, another sigh.

“But there is no girl as you describe that lives in these parts and certainly none that would come alone in this isolated spot.” With a wink he added. “If there were, I would know sir.”

“Then she came from further afield, for what reason I cannot say, that is not my business, other than I wish to see her come again, for I fear I shall not rest until I do.”

 He sat on the ground, with a look of dejection.

“You say she was bare footed. Would she really have walked here with no shoes on her feet!”

“Indeed she was bare footed, such wonderfully small feet, nestled in the soft heather. I noticed them sir and without shoes is precisely how they were.”

“And her mode of dress?”

“Yes yes, I have said already. A dress of simple white cotton, that is all. Let us not keep going over these details.I have said how it was.”

 They both stood for some moments, looking towards the laurel tree.

“Her hair was golden and long and fell gently and with a curl upon her slender shoulders. Her eyes were closed, but beneath those long lashes, you knew those eyes to be a sparkling blue. One hand, oh so small and delicate, was pressed against the trunk of the laurel tree, the other hidden from view. She didn’t notice anyone watching her, or if she did, it mattered not and deterred her in no way. The slight smile on her angelic face suggested maybe she did know. Then, just as if she was a dream, she vanished from view, but left such an image in the mind's eye, that may never be erased.”

“Yes yes, indeed so sir. You have described her perfectly. You must have seen her yourself, but why the pretence?”

“Oh yes of course I have seen her sir. There, leaning against the laurel tree.”...


The End


Submitted: November 08, 2020

© Copyright 2020 H W Lustre. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Joe Stuart

Despite the absence of descriptive prose in this story, HW, you created in my mind a clear picture of the era and location of this story through dialogue alone. I love the mystery of the story and the way in which you ended it.

Sun, November 8th, 2020 8:51pm


You are too kind sir and I thank you immeasurably...

Sun, November 8th, 2020 1:06pm

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