My Beautiful Sunflower

It walked along the craggy shoreline. Around It’s shoulders a scarlet and cobalt woven blanket. Tattered yellow-white tassels dangling from the edges of the blanket skittered across It’s upper arms and back. The cloth was held in place by a wooden shawl pin in the shape of a teardrop towards the right shoulder. Under the shawl was a dull gray chassis liberally painted with dark red and green patterns seemingly done with a child’s hand. Dots, lines, and geometric shapes flowed across the somber dark metal that formed It’s chest, arms, and legs. It carried a worn-down satchel that sat at It’s left hip the strap of which was hidden beneath the shawl-like blanket.

Now and again It would stoop down picking something up from the ground as It walked. Pausing to study what was in It’s hand and then either dropping the item or placing it in the satchel and continuing onwards. In the distance beyond the trees was a city. Even from here, It’s brilliant green glowing eyes could see the remnants of those who came before.

Glass refracting in the morning sun. The metal skeleton of a tall unfinished building glinting in the light where the metal had not yet rusted. In the city proper, It knew It would find glass and metal contraptions on the roads. Cars, the ones who came before, called them. Concrete and brick rubble would be strewn across the cityscape. Wild things: birds and squirrels and foxes would dart between and through the buildings they had once been denied entrance to. Grass, vines, and plants of all kinds growing wild throughout the remains of the metropolis.

But there were other remains too. Pieces of those who came before. Skulls and other bones that lied where the before ones had fallen. It had collected many of those pieces already. Painting and carving them as It wished. Some simply done others with more detail. Those pieces hung around its home among the trees and rubble at the outskirts of the city. But right now It was collecting smaller pieces. Things found among the rocks and sand. Brought in by the greenish-blue-grey seawater that lapped the shoreline like a dog licking his owner’s hand.

It didn’t know why It collected pieces. The pieces of the before. Just that It did. Sometimes It wondered about where they came from and what they meant. From the small glass figurine of a rabbit with a cracked ear to the faded green stuffed dinosaur with a single black eye; It just felt compelled to keep these things. Even if they were useless each piece seemed to have a story attached to it. And It had a feeling that those stories needed to be preserved even though It could not understand or hear them.

The water rushed in once more dancing around It’s dull gray feet and filling the tidepools that littered the shore before drawing back to repeat the process over again. Something glistening under the water caught It’s eye as It looked down once more. A small copper shine reflecting under the water. It reached down It’s hand, the water distorting the spaces between It’s fingers strangely, and catches the light in It’s hands. It pulls the thing out from beneath the swirling water. Opening It’s fingers It sees a necklace with a delicate broken chain dangling down between the holes in It’s metal hand.

The chain slips through Its fingers and drops back into the water with a small plop leaving a locket in It’s hand. A bright rose gold heart locket standing out against It’s own subdued dark gray. It studies the locket. Carved on the front center is a sunflower surrounded by filigree filling the space between the edges of the locket and the flower in the center. Along the edge is a clasp. With a click, the locket pops open revealing a small photo protected by resin: a small brown-haired girl sitting on a rocking chair petting a gray and white cat in her lap smiling. On the other side is a lock of brown hair tied with a small green ribbon that is also held in resin. It closes the locket and flips the thing over. Engraved on the back were the words ‘Mo Lus Grèine Brèagha’.

"What does that mean?" It wonders, gray fingers with green painted lines tracing over the sunflower engraving once more. Another story lost to the ones who came before It supposes wistfully. It goes to put the locket in the satchel but pauses. There is something different about this piece. Why it’s different or what’s different about it? It doesn’t know but some unexplainable desire works its way through It's mind. “This piece shouldn’t be hidden or placed upon a shelf to be looked at,” It thinks.

Reaching into the satchel It digs for a few moments before pulling out another chain. This one a slightly tarnished silver wheat chain about 80 cm long. It threaded the locket onto the chain and latched the necklace around It’s neck. The locket makes a clinking sound as it drops against It’s chassis. It feels the weight against It’s neck. "How strange", It thought as It moved along the shoreline once more, "The locket seems heavier than expected."