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Write a story that uses flowers as a symbol.

Posted in Spring on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 32 stories

Dandelion

Shortlisted for Contest #9 ⭐️

The old man was never good with names. Or kids.  He is excellent at flowers. That’s why the bus stops in front of his garden. The neighborhood thinks it makes them more distinguished and tempts the children away from their electronics. Gives them “a real sense of nature” as if nature could be learned in the eight to fifteen minutes waiting for the yellow behemoth. As if gardening was as simple as “stick it in the ground, add water.” They don’t appreciate the art, the precision of sun and shade, the correct ...

39 likes 5 comments 5
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For the Ones Who Weren't Chosen

Submitted to Contest #9

'I hope I’m not Weak!' Tulip whispered. Rose, smirking, unfurled her leaves, and in a sickly sweet voice remarked, 'Well I wouldn’t be surprised! The last one of your kind went Weak because she wasn’t chosen.’‘Oh stop it, Rose!’ Daffodil chided, her amiable nature getting the better of her. The Sunn Marigold and Marie Sunflower sisters, swaying gently in the breeze nearby, mild - natured, felt their leaves wrinkle with worry. Rose wasn’t to be crossed, they knew. ‘She snapped. The competition got to her. She just wasn’t meant to be the Chose...

35 likes 14 comments 14
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Flowers

Submitted to Contest #9

I walked through the gardens as I did every spring afternoon, reminiscing on my life as I always did. There wasn’t much to life now, only memories. Today I turned 90. I was still fit, for an old bird, although one of my carers still followed me like a hawk, as young and as exuberant as the flowers surrounding me. I breathed in the heady aroma and drank in the warm sunlight. I was glad my eyesight had not dimmed so badly that I could not see at all without glasses, although shapes were slightly blurring around the edges. Still, in the gardens...

22 likes 7 comments 7
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Labyrinth

Submitted to Contest #9

The paper was quickly shoved into my hand, and I pushed it into my pocket. Nobody around me could see it, or the police would seize me. My home was just around the corner, and the moment I walked through the door, I opened the paper. Another flower, this time purple with a blue swirled center. I held it to a light bulb, and the encrypted message appeared. At ten o’ clock tonight, another group will be running away. I am unsure if I have enough courage to go this time, because the last time I tried I almost got caught. And the rest of my...

18 likes 2 comments 2
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A Village Under the Purple Moon

Submitted to Contest #9

1Marianne felt the eyes of the townsfolk upon her; hatred intermingled with fear. Although they’d never know it, the people of Maydale had played a role in their own demise.As she walked the muddy path, feeling the wet splatters caking her shins, she met their gaze. If they were to call upon her to save them, the least they could do was acknowledge her. She would not shy away from them. Many of the peasants dropped their stare or made the sign of the cross with their fingers. The latter would have made her laugh, had the circumstances not be...

15 likes 2 comments 2
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Monster Under Your Bed

Shortlisted for Contest #9 ⭐️

The flowers outside your window had died this morning. Maybe it was because you hadn’t watered them for the last four weeks. Truthfully, after work, you came home and sank into your bed without thinking about the flowers outside your window or the laundry on the floor. That motivation your co-workers had to keep up a beautiful house, attend every happy hour, and snap photos of their children playing in the garden wasn’t...you. So, much like your social life, the flowers had died. You fell asleep that night without a second thought about them...

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Iris

Submitted to Contest #9

IrisArriving at the townhome of Frank and Alaina Macey in his Sunday best, a blue three-piece Alfani suit, with black Alfani shoes, dark blue shirt and a white tie, Orion would miss half of Sunday service for the third week in September. Orion states. “So, once again, a blue iris is left at the scene. Have you found the white iris yet.”  “And who are you?” asks police Captain, Sierra Shaffer.“Orion Sunn. I ride along with various police departments around the metro area. I’m a writer.”“You mean a journalist.”“I freelance, ghostwrit...

12 likes 0 comments 0
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A Garden of Roses

Submitted to Contest #9

When they met for the first time, he gave her a red rose. She would tell that story over and over until all fell asleep. That story for her was a way of remembering him. A week earlier, her vision started to blur, people would fade away into blankness and all she could hear were voices, some loud, some soft, some angry and some sad. She always sat on rocking armchair, feeling the wind on her face and that made her smile. He was in his late twenties, pale skin, grey eyes, with a French crop, a vandyke beard and a soft smile. It was a dare, he...

10 likes 3 comments 3
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Poppy Fatigue

Submitted to Contest #9

POPPY FATIGUE It was the kind of thing you just didn’t admit, even to yourself, but Jacky was suffering from Poppy Fatigue. She couldn’t even claim to have invented the expression, though she didn’t know who had. She always liked to think that she honoured the fallen, and to her dying day when she was in her nineties, her grandmother had spoken wistfully of her brother John who had been gassed in the trenches. He had survived, but had nightmares, and it had permanently affected his lungs. He died young.  &n...

7 likes 0 comments 0
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A Place Called Nowhere

Submitted to Contest #9

This story begins in the past. Back when everything was empty, there was no life; only the humans and the trash they lived in. It was a miserable fate, but they had accepted it and moved on. The year was 2189, and Theo Williams had just graduated from East Grimswater High, the last school he’d ever attend. There was no time for post-secondary programs, as the average lifespan had shrunk down to a mere 40 years. With the end of school finally here, Theo’s mailbox had been bursting with invitations to numerous weddings. Ever since the council ...

3 likes 0 comments 0
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Sugar and Flower substances

Submitted to Contest #9

It was the middle of spring on the outskirts of Romania, 1839. Everything was prepared, for the all important proposal. Gemmy, wanted this for so long, that she could not help repeating her order for the meal for two. The table was set, napkins neatly folded on either side, a jug of water in the centre of the table.The room was dimly lit with an old fashioned oil lamp; it was felt it gave an authentic feel, and perched on the stove was brewing up a concoction of the finest coffee imported from the Middle East. It was...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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Flowers at First Frost

Submitted to Contest #9

“Flowers for sale. Flowers for sale.” When the sign hung overhead turned uneffective, she often turned to the teachings of her carnival barker of a father. ‘The squeaky wheel gets the grease’, he would say. Never much of a squeaker, her best efforts did little to bring in even a wandering glance from a passerby. Today’s yield of flowers was dismal now that the frost had begun making its way through the county. Summer would bring the Lords and Ladies -- dressed in their Sunday suits and dresses -- to the small town of the Flowerseller. They, ...

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DADDY

Submitted to Contest #9

Daddy By James Offenhartz A red rose. Well, I got the red rose and the beast got me. However, although I am an inventor, when I was young, I used to hunt with my daddy and when I hunted, I always aimed between the eyes of the beasts. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring a gun with me today. But, I could always tell what the animal was going to do by looking into its eyes. If the eyes were angry, it would try to attack me. If it’s eyes were scared, it would try to run. The same thing is true in poker, nine times ...

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You Bring Me Flowers

Submitted to Contest #9

“Special delivery for you!”The secretary handed Meghan a bouquet of red roses. The cellophane crinkled, sending shock-waves across the office. Heads popped up over cubicles, searching for the lucky girl. Meghan found herself surrounded by a flock of envious women.“Thanks,” Meghan said, throwing the bouquet on her desk. The secretary gave her a disdainful look and walked away.“At least someone’s boyfriend remembered Valentine’s Day,” Brenda said. “Ugh, I hate being single,” Jane pouted from over the top of Meghan’s cubicle.“These days I’m luc...

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The Florist's Flower.

Submitted to Contest #9

  A rose is beautiful until its once vibrant petals reddened with passion wither to a gruesome black grave jagged to its once graceful symmetry taking the attention to the nearby blue celosia just blossoming in the chilly months of Fall. No matter how hard I try to water the neglected flower, nothing could save its sinking bud. Not even the rising sun promising another morning of light. Turning the sign to hang the start of another day, it took just a second to adjust the soft tulips just right in its scenic entrance hoping its bea...

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