Thorn
\ˌˈthȯrn\
Noun
: a sharp rigid process on a plant
I'm beyond happy to have these flowers present in my hand. I did so well and learned so much in the past seasons, thanks to this fruitful tree and my faithful friends. I used a couple of names to identify our circle of five−proxies, popular, and a whole lot more that I can barely recall. I can't say these names brought us closer together, but it was fun to make these stuff up. It's part of our journey as youth to have some fun.
Remember when I said that my friends are faithful? Well things don't always stay the same. My hand could feel pain slowly progressing−it's the red rose. It has thorns that apparently give me the sting of betrayal. I'm just a child, I don't like getting hurt. I let go of the rose in pain. The strong wind blows it away from me, but no matter how far away it goes, the pain won't leave. This time, it moved from my hand to my heart. With tears falling down from my eyes, I look at the flowers remaining in my hand−blue hibiscus, alstroemeria, sunflower, and my daisy−then look back again at the feisty red rose, already several meters away from me. I could never forget its beauty. She was still so stunning!
YOU ARE READING
Bloom
Short Story"I can wander in this paradise alone for I am otherwise" Come with me as I walk you through my journey of nurturing myself, finding inner peace, making friends, and most importantly loving and appreciating the one who chose to stay through the highs...
