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Title: Lucy's Flowers
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Dracula - original Stoker text
Length: 400
Characters: Mina Harker
Also for: my GWYO prompt: lacuna
Notes: OC Harker children, also for a poetry prompt to write a poem which is a letter, the poem is a villanelle.
Summary: Roughhousing in the Harker library leads to tears for Mina


“Why are you crying, Mama?”

What could Mina say? She said something soothing and dismissive borne of motherhood, but she would not tell her precious ones the truth. The boys had been playing too rough in the library, knocking into shelves and upsetting books. She rushed in to scold them and send their high spirits out of doors, but she halted when she saw the cascade of dried flowers released upon the love-worn rug.

Dried flowers and a card.

A pretty card with a pretty picture. Through a hole had been strung a pair of pretty ribbons and a long lock of pretty hair.

The writing on the other side of the card was done in a pretty hand, but Mina could not look at it. Nevertheless, the tears began to flow.

She ordered the boys out and began to pick up the dried flowers one by one. One was so brittle it crumbled at the touch, but the rest were carefully gathered.

Mina searched for an envelope, something safe in which to guard them.

They had once formed a garland.

Only when they were carefully stored, and the remnants swept up, did Mina dare look at the card.

“Oh, Lucy.”

“Yes, Mama? Why are you crying?”

Mina turned and smiled at her daughter and wiped her tears.

“Once upon a time Mama’s friend wrote a sad poem.”

“I’ll write a happy one. About kittens and treacle tarts and Christmas…”

Mina tucked the card in the envelope with the dried garlic flowers and forgot again.

Dearest Mina, I cannot sleep. I end
the passing hours. I haunt. I am, tonight,
a ghost whom you believe to be your friend,
Your Lucy, though horribly weak, I send
seas of kisses, may flapping dreams take flight.
Dearest Mina, I cannot sleep. I end
every nightingale’s spell a weakened blend
of myself, bold dove turned lark of pale light,
a ghost whom you believe to be your friend,
pricked, constricted, drained, baned, dare I pretend
that nothing’s happening, that all is right?
Dearest Mina, I cannot sleep. I end
no wiser, this gap sickens me, I bend
over this lacuna, shudder at the sight,
a ghost whom you believe to be your friend
reflected, I fear, I misapprehend
all, it must be penned, this last, I must write:
Dearest Mina, I cannot sleep. I end
this but believe me Your Lucy, your friend

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