Dandelions can cry.

Freckled face Molly looked outside the car window, as it drove past what was once a place called home. The memories came down like rain, past the farm, thinking of braiding each others hair, playing "Princesses" with the Jameson's girls. The cow shed, milking their mornings together, her sister, Patricia. The car grumbled down the twisted lane and passed the meadows, once green with sweet grass, she, kissing Tony, laying helpless in his arms, in perfect serenity, the dandelions as witnesses.

Tony. He was gone.

After all, he was bathing in a pool of red water.

The police had found Molly crying piteously next to a multiple stabbed body. It was murder of the first degree.

Now, in the police car, she glanced once more at the meadow she turned red, before in was lost from all eyesight, and was sure she heard the dandelions cry.