A small, really small story that I wrote based upon the two persons covered in moss. The sculpture can be found in the garden of The Hurst, Craven Arms, UK.
“Oh Henri, I feel so lonely.” Anthia whispered.
“How come. Surely with your long list of friends there is most likely every day one that wants to chat with you.”
“True, but whenever they are in, they all complain that I have hardly time available for them.”
“That is weird. I know you for a long time and I’ve never encountered that feeling.”
“But Henri, every day two or three friends are coming by. I have to, otherwise I don’t see them at least once a year.”
“Amazing. It means that you have between 6 and 9 hundred friends. Is that true?”
“Could be, but every time we start off with some formalities and after that we only have bare time to go into something deeper. Only with you, my dearest, I’m able to talk about my feelings and thoughts.”
“Glad that I can serve you in one way or another. Shall we get out for a small walk? I hate it when the butler suddenly bursts in.”
“OK, let’s go to the fountain. I want to show you something there.”
Hand in hand Anthia and Henri walked through the garden, passing the daffodils, the roses that still had to bloom.
“Tell me Anthia, what could there be that I can help you with feeling less lonely?”
“Hold me, hold me tied, we have reached the fountain and I want you to look me in the eyes. As long as you can.”
The butler had been looking for Anthia that day in the house for several hours. Nowhere to be found. He went into the garden. Finally he found her, and her friend Henri, connected to each other. He left them in their moment.