https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCym3dOH6r9vD_9SbwsAE2gEAiaTLGHrlEcnCQG1s8zG0pmnzELtopQqgtbyqR45bAGOD2Jpm2azsllFvlM-5UFVPuwBWUP8SCdPSMDZ3g4Vr1LNzJgbIVPMR6zftNL6bTmjeSaym4pyk/s1600/Black-Tulip-tulips-29859766-450-300.jpg
"I thought you could paint them." Lola handed the photograph to Vikki, who regarded it with interest. "It's different from what you usually paint, but they're really beautiful. My mama has an entire planter filled with them."
"Censina enjoys her idiosyncrasies," the artist murmured.
The young girl tilted her head. "Why are they called black tulips if they're dark purple?"
Vikki bit her lip, thinking. "Because they're...different. They stand out, and they don't seem to mind." At Lola's confusion, she gave her a half-smile. "You've seen how tall they grow, they're no wallflowers."
Lola giggled. "You remind me of one. A black tulip, I mean."
"Hm?"
"Well, you're different. No one else has mismatched eyes, and it makes you pretty. You don't care what people say about you, and you stand out." She paused. "It's like how these tulips stand out among the lighter ones. Like putting a charcoal stick between pink oil pastels."
