Rose

By Rachel H Grant

Rose lay asleep in the sun, as though the world were gone, only her dreams left behind. Slowly she purred, a feline fantasy melting like honey in her mind.

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A secret was stitched deep within Rose. Her name was apt, for inside her heart beat a tiny piece of love: a real rose quartz crystal.

Exuding an aura of peace and love, her very presence was healing. Calm caressed her home and all in it. She indeed was a magical cat.

Years turned in to seconds, running timelessly through the river of life, waters of tomorrow beckoning today. The rose quartz in Rose’s heart grew in strength and purpose. A feline future unfurled, a present for posterity.

The rose quartz essence traversed Rose’s body and took on life of its own. One night, pain shot through her as one by one four sparkling rose quartz crystals forced their way from her bewildered body.

Ronald, Ryan, Raquelle and Rebecca. Her own kittens.

Only they were not cats, they were rocks: rose quartz beings in the shape of kittens, with the enigmatic look of millennia in their eyes. One by one they left her side, sidling towards the cat flap in a conspiracy of retreat.

Rose ran after them, a mother’s love blossoming in her rose quartz heart. But they were gone, disappeared in to the deep of night.

Slowly, Ronald tapped on a window with his quartz paw. A small child awoke, hair tousled, eyes blurry. Letting Ronald in, he then curled up and was fast asleep before Ronald could begin to purr. But purr he did, the molten quartz music joining the child’s dreams and soothing his mind, axing anxiety, the fear of the bullied child.

The other kittens found their own frightened children, subduing their worries with rose quartz magic. But in the morning, they were gone, moving on to who knew where, a plan of purr and play in the name of healing and harmony.

Rose looked for them, going round the garden again and again. Her heart ached as her mind prayed. Please give them back to me.

As the rose quartz kittens travelled far away, making miracles in their wake, Rose’s dream came true. She found them in the field beyond her garden. Crying in the early morning light. Three black and white kittens, small and defenceless, mieawing for a mum.

One by one she carried them by mouth to the house. The real mother lay further away, stiff and motionless, all her tomorrows frozen but the river of life flowing still in her kittens. Their life, her legacy.

Rose curled up in her box with three bundles of bliss, her heart beating in time to theirs, her love flowing from her teats in rose pink milk. The rose quartz inside her radiated warmth. Together, they slept as one, dreams united as tails entwined.

Somewhere, far away, a rose quartz kitten slept, drying a little child’s tears with purrs. The sun dawned on a day alive with the magic of mieaws. Nightmares retreated as rose pink light painted the world a better shade of peace.

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