He is my Boo Radley, the one who watches me from behind closed doors, through the curtains.I can feel his eyes on me as I tend to those magnolias, the yellow dust on them screeching to the ground when the sprays of water hit them.

People say I am beautiful. I wonder what my Boo Radley thinks. Yes, I am one of a kind, a female gardener with a diploma in agriculture.
It is his mother who comes out to make small talk with me sometimes. Says he loves flowers too. The unkempt garden, the weeds tell a different story.

At nights, I lay thinking about him. One day, he will come out to the garden, a Rhett Butler straight out of Gone with the Wind, sweep me off my feet and tell me I am the best flower he has seen. 

I am a romantic, a dreamer. For me, movies, books and real life have very faded lines between them. I jump over the borders easily which sometimes melt completely, specially when the roses in my heart are in full bloom. 
Well, it has been a couple of months, but I don’t see him. My fantasies are beginning to dwindle, like the sunflowers drooping on a rainy day.

And one day, the scene in my movie, the one I have been waiting for is acted out.

One day, as I make love to the budding Dahlias, with my back to the door, I hear it open.

I can sense its not the mother, its him. I know it. 

My heart starts pounding. I dare not turn. I savour the moment of the big Boo Radley-cum- Rhett Butler reveal.

I hear the footsteps closing in. But they do not sound like footsteps. It is more like the cobbles in the path are being crushed and dragged.

I turn around in slow motion, a background music, otherwise inaudible, playing in my ears. There is no breeze, and I wish someone would blow a fan into my hair so that it sweeps back. 

And I see him.

He is on a wheelchair. Outcome of an war, I suppose.

He is handsome.

My fantasy come true. My Rhett Butler, albeit in a wheel chair.

He smiles. He looks pale.

I will be his sun, I decide. I smile back.

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