"Hi," I said, "Good morning. I'm here, just like I said I would be."
I didn't receive a reply, but that's okay. I didn't expect one. I began work on this drawing.
Then I began again.
I erased, and began once more.
I erased so much that the creamy color of the Moleskine sketchbook rubbed off in places, and I had white blotches all over the page, with bits of eraser stubble sticking to them.
Yet again, I tried to begin.
"We met yesterday," I said, a bet tense. "I saw you, smiled at you, complimented you, and admired you. I told you I would be back today to spend time with you, and here I am. Now it would be great, really great, if you cooperated and made this drawing easier."
The flower didn't reply, which I know is reasonable, but still, I felt a bit slighted.
"You're in my light," the flower finally said to me, "I'd like the bees to see me."
I stepped into the shade, turned a fresh page, and there I stayed until I was finished.
Colored pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.