The Flowers Oh, how we long to return to the grand, few, short years of our childhood where nothing in this world mattered but skipping around, humming our favorite tunes, and playing with our most treasured toys. In the story, “The Flowers,” by Alice Walker, she gives to us a young girl, by the name of Myop, that vaguely wandered onto abandoned grounds within her backyard. Myop was, before, a little ray of sunshine with the world in her hands and not a care in it, but her new adventure gave her a gander into the harshness of reality on that summer morning. “And the summer was over,” says the speaker, giving us insight as to how sweet, little Myop’s innocence has now gone atray. Starting her journey, Myop skipped and made beats with her stick
