Beauty and The Beast
Between the darkness of the forest and the foreboding of the house, there was a garden of extraordinary beauty. Though it had clearly been cultivated with some skill, it was not overly pruned, nor sculpted. Nature had not been tamed, but rather invited within the boundary of the high stone wall and gently coaxed to display its most vibrant colours and playful, sprawling shapes. In every direction, flowers of all forms and hues competed for the admiration of the observer. The air was alive with the humming of bees and the sweet fug of lavender and honeysuckle, undercut by the insistent sharpness of rosemary and pine. And everywhere there were roses, each resplendent in dashing crimson or virginal white. Through this scene there walked a girl no less beautiful than her surroundings. Slightly built and …