a Sunflower

There really is no stopping me now.
This is a story I started writing for my English teacher who is really keen on the idea of starting an after school writing workshop. I'd love to do the workshop, especially considering the fact that I never write anymore..
I should really finish this story, but I'm afraid I got 'out' of it as soon as I stopped writing it. But who knows.. I might give it a shot.
Do you like it?



A SUNFLOWER:

Her face, tender as the night but, though as poetic as Shakespeare's sonnets, often mistaken by photographs, had lost its usual white state, for the weather hadn't been awfully bad that summer.
Her personality was as uncatchable as the wind, but as destructive too. In the way she'd hardly ever let a word slip her lips, the mystery kept in her blue eyes, remained one of the most mysterious of mysteries.
When one speaks and uses words in his (or in this case: her) explanation, the characters which form the words, get blown away by the wind. She'd never liked the idea of words getting blown apart, so she'd -most of the time- keep them to herself. In that way she and her thoughts would stay together and she couldn't get things mixed up by losing some of the characters... And as the wind had never really been generous to her and didn't return any formerly lost characters, she didn't want to have the risk that she would forget anything again. She remembered more by not speaking and remembering things was getting more and more important, especially now.. Things were bad enough already.
And by the way - one learns more through observation than through discussion. Whilst discussing, one may lose eye on the true core of the discussion or, even worse, not hear the things that are yet to be heard.
She heard everything and even without letting go of a singular word, she could attract people to her, like bees to honey or mayonnaise to french fries. She could invite them to come even closer than they already were, for the faint blushing of her cheeks made her look happy and outgoing (even though I'm not quite sure if she really was).
Thank God she was alone right now,- sunsets are only to be seen in utter silence. She loved the idea of getting sucked into the sea, just like the sun did that afternoon. She loved the idea that every little sparkle in the water was a question, an answer or perhaps even a lost soul, waiting to be found...
Oh, the touch of the last sunbeams on her shoulders after a long, hot day at the beach! She could stay there forever, if the word itself hadn't already given away its finity. And, of course, if it wasn't for The Partay to take place that night.
She took a peek at her new pink watch with hearts on it and noticed she had to hurry. Ah well.
She got up and started walking, humming a song of which she didn't even know it existed.
~~~~~~
The wine tasted mighty sweet. Where most men turned their backs on the intoxiating smell, the women seemed to be liking it more and more with each swig they took. The air was filled with their laughter and the clinging of their glasses, which both probably wouldn't stop before the break of dawn.