Bleeding Glory

The aftermath of what some might call war, or of industrialisation

She saw the chimneys go up; their tall dark silhouettes impounded the vast buildings that spread across the acres of land. The clouds dark and momentous lavished amongst the streets and the nauseous air, although breathable, wrecked the city with its monstrous outbreak of smoke. The sight of the damage infuriated her. Her love for England’s beauty and elegance amongst the clear skies and untouched scenery was to be forgotten by the citizens of her beloved country. The yellow and orange orchards blooming in the fields, entwined with the vines of the bleeding glory bower. It was one of her personal favourites, with its ombré effect from its white unstained petals to a deep and enriched red that flourished the fields with outstanding charisma. As she swept the ashes on her doorstep, minding the roses she had planted a while ago, her wondrous thoughts trailed to the ruins of the field. The flowers which were blooming with such height, such irreplaceable beauty were now grey and distort. Their petals collapsed and their stems concaving in a downward motion with its fallen petals shrivelled showing no sight of its once blissful colours that shone throughout the fields of England.

The nature she had pursued was an immense scope of forest like projections unrestricted from man’s grim creations, with preserved antique vine like structures that drew itself from the depths of the vibrant riverbanks of the south to the tops of the evergreen conifers located in the near north. The impeccable surroundings and the awe of the blooms that scattered all throughout the shallow grass fields flickered in the mist of clean air creating a unity of both flora and fauna.

She was a woman of Bulgarian and English descent, her tall, slim figure and defined facial structure made her particularly attractive. Her minimalized life was a reflection of her indulgence of nature and its blissful aroma.  However the entrance of the war soon became vivid as the eradication of nature became all but normal and the introduction to new weapons and machinery were to replace its profound beauty. Her broad knowledge of nature, although impressive was condoned by the public who saw nonsense upon the topic, urging her to join the workforce and becoming what they thought was a real woman. She knew that her impulsive attitude towards the war caused much harm to her reputation and her decision in joining the women working in the factories making dangerous if not lethal weapons for men fighting in the midst of conflict was in opposition to her affection for nature.

As she stepped foot into the dull and unpleasant fabrication building, constant gazes lashed towards her causing an uneasy sensation throughout her body. The wrath of the machines ravished throughout the industrial unit, bringing an uproar of anxiety and meaningless repulsive smoke and vapour that drizzled making her clothes and face stained with ashes of coal. Her hands, wrinkled, yet still plump struggled to assemble the unusual weapon she had been assigned to. Her thoughts frantically stirring her, irritating her as she tried to remain in silence as she wearingly sought to adapt to her miserable surroundings.

Stripped and deprived of her dignity, she continued to work vigorously alongside strangers and without a single word she plummeted to the ground. Tears rolled down her face, as she desperately struggled to wipe her face which gave her a shattered complexion as she steadily arose to discover the entirely new unwelcoming life within the mainstream of a booming industry she had trodden into was an impulsive magnitude of revulsion and treachery in which had become a necessity for her to flee. Her mind was in fixation whilst she ran forth trembling and intoxicated towards the outside world where torment awaited her as she gushed the doors open.

She could see the ombré effect, as the white pale skin furthered to blood as it shed an intense red that it branched out as it bore. It was one of her personal favourites.