ISABELLA

     As I ambled through the open fields in the rear of my family's country home, I couldn't help but feel a sense of marvel wash over me. The tulip flowers appeared to reign supreme in the landscape, their dazzling hues jutting out against the verdant carpet of grass.

     I reached out to caress the petals of one of the tulips, relishing their soft, velvety texture. It was all but impossible not to bring it to my nostrils to inhale its enchanting fragrance; the scent was heady, inundating my senses and making my head feel as if it were floating on a cloud.

     I marvelled at the allure of these flowers, even as they were flawed – afflicted by a virus that granted them their eye-catching appearance. It was that very imperfection that rendered them so breathtaking and singular. 

     Much like these flowers, my own existence was marred by imperfections. And just as the tulips did, I knew that I too would surmount the challenges and seize the utmost from my circumstances.

     I cast my gaze downward at my burgeoning belly, cognizant that my little parcel of joy was nestled within. I could hardly wait to share this magical place with my offspring and observe them growing up, cradled in such splendour.

     As I stood there, the flowers seemed to perform a jig around me, their colours and scents weaving a tapestry of beauty that was near impossible to rival. It was in that moment that I envisioned how these resplendent blossoms could bestow joy and radiance upon everyone.

     A feeling of contentment washed over me as I walked back to the main house, certain that I had discovered a sense of serenity and purpose among the tulips.

     This was a fresh start, and I resolved to make the most of it.