Karolina Sowinska - The Lotus of Lake Suburbia Lake Suburbia was known for white lotus plant. Every summer, it was harvested and traded, making the town’s foundation. For hundreds of years, no other plant has grown on the lake. No other plant could compete with the white...
Karolina Sowinska - The Lotus of Lake Suburbia
Lake Suburbia was known for white lotus plant. Every summer, it was harvested and traded, making the town’s foundation. For hundreds of years, no other plant has grown on the lake. No other plant could compete with the white lotus. However, one extraordinary winter, a black lotus mysteriously appeared on the lake.
It was a real sensation for the small community of about one thousand people. At least a hundred curious men and women would take a walk up the hill each day where they could see the flower floating in the middle of the lake. It was understood that the flower would soon perish in the uninhabitable and foreign to its natural conditions.
However, as time moved forward, the dwellers of Lake Suburbia slowly returned to their normal activities, paying less attention to the exotic flower.
August was approaching fast. It was an important month for the citizens of Lake Suburbia. Every August, the white lotus buds, Lake Suburbia’s cherished emblem, were beginning to blossom.
Nonetheless, unlike the previous summer, and the hundreds of summers before, when thousands of white lotus flowers opened up and floated in quiet confidence at the summery lake shore, this time the buds remained closed. The object of inspiration, trade, tourism, the subject of the local anthem and ancient prayers, the very fibre of Lake Suburbia perished in most bizarre circumstances.
“It will blossom, of course it will blossom” you could hear merchants repeating at the Market Place. The hot air suspended over the town and it was hard to breathe despite the early hours of the day. Someone in a white apron passed through the market hurriedly.
-“Strawberries? Strawberries for our intellectual? They won’t be any good tomorrow. Special price!” - exclaimed one of the sellers in the direction of the rushing man.
-”Pardon me, Mr Brown. I have no time. I think I saw one white lotus opening up yesterday towards the end of the evening. It was getting dark, and I could not tell for sure, but I am going to check it now”
-”I told y'all it will blossom! Of course it will blossom. A scientist says so!”
The scientist disappeared on the horizon, watched by the curious crowd.
No white petals were seen on the lake that day.
With each passing day of August, darker and darker clouds were hanging over the uneasy, nervous heads of Lake Suburbia inhabitants. Eventually, thunderstorms wrecked havoc over the town, causing floods and ruining fields of corn and banana plants.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. If only I had prayed more for white lotus, when it was still time!” whispered a junior ordinand kneeling in a confessional. I cannot remember any more sins, Father!”
“As a penance, pray more. Pray for the white lotus to blossom five times a day. It may blossom any moment if we continue to have faith. Absolved!” spoke the priest.
September has passed. It became clear that white lotus would not opkken.
The town recovered from the damage caused by the frequent and heavy thunderstorms, and no one suffered from hunger. And yet, a different kind of sickness started plaguing Lake Suburbia.
Wind stopped blowing. There was no rain, and no sun in the sky. It was hard to distinguish between day and night, as the town was cloaked in permanently dim light of the invisible distant stars. Markets would not open and no one spoke to each other. Silence and stillness permeated every fibre of Lake Suburbia.
I could not help but cry. Tears kept welling up in my eyes, unstoppable. A few weeks have passed by, and, after this long time of isolation, I finally decided to go outside. I was relieved to have been grazed in my ankles with a gentle puff of wind. The sky looked somewhat brighter than what I had remembered.
Perhaps driven by a sense of nostalgia, I went on a walk up the hill to see the lotusless lake.
To my greatest bewilderment, the lake was not there. I looked around to make sure I had climbed the right hill, but I was in the intended place. Nothing else around had changed. Standing at the shore of what used to be the very heart of Lake Suburbia, staring at the meadow that sprung up in its place, I let rays of sunshine gently touch my face.
I ran down the hill straight to the Market Place, smiling. I had to tell everyone.
