Flower Wilted Novels & Stories

Bosley lifted the glass. The moment he did— as if a silent curse had been waiting— the lotus began to wilt before our eyes, petals shrinking, color draining like someone had painted it with despair. Gasps exploded across the auction hall. Billie explained in her mind, 'Snow Lotuses grow in extreme cold. Once you remove it from its habitat it'll go into shock and die.' Bosley's face drained white. "How did this plant die?!" he shouted, voice cracking. "You sold me a fake!"

I murmured, leaning slightly into his touch as his fingers stroked past my ear. “I was looking at Agatha's soil notes. She checked the pH and the water, but... I think she's looking at the wrong thing.” Malik’s hand paused for a split second, his thumb gently caressing my cheekbone. “Yeah?” “I mean, the soil isn't toxic,” I continued. “The roots aren't rotting from a disease. If you look at the weather charts from the last month, the humidity spikes exactly at midnight every night because of the river mist, but the temperature drops drastically right after. It’s a specific type of fungal blight—Microdochium. It starves the plant from the inside out before it ever hits the root. If we treat t

The letter didn't have a header and it didn't say from who it was either. It's the wind, can't you hear it? The sound is melodic, almost a whisper. Little by little, the voice turns brittle. Drop after drop, the tears don't cease to stop. The tune itself surrounds her, and like a spell her thoughts drown in the well. A soft murmur caresses her petals that are so thin, the light in her eyes slowly turning dim. The sigh of defeat makes the whistling howls of the wind freeze. Everything stops just as the rose falls.

Kayson hummed for a moment and asked, “Mr. Phillius Sr, you have surveillance cameras set up outside your place, right?” “We do. What’s the matter?” Carl’s gaze turned a little grim. “Check your recent surveillance footage. This flower is poisonous, especially at sunrise. The toxic released is harmful.” The family looked shocked. David went upstairs to retrieve the surveillance recording while Felix asked anxiously, “Kayson, what kind of harm will the flower’s poison do?” “When one is in contact with it for a prolonged period of time, the blood vessels will harden and one fall could easily cause a stroke or paralysis, making one crippled for life,” said Kayson.

I walked through, watering every flower, as Willow is asleep and Lucian is not present, allowing me enough time to keep the flowers healthy; otherwise, there won't be anyone, and they'll die off. I had finished watering the flower and was about to go inside when something interesting captured her attention. It was the sensitive plant. I mistakenly touched it, and it withered. After a few minutes, it came back to life. I was fascinated by the little plant lying at the back of the hibiscus.

Her head felt like mud. Suddenly, a thought came to her. It was a gas leak! She quickly wet a towel and used it to cover her mouth and nose before plucking the strength to head downstairs. When she reached the living room, she found Freya who had fainted on the couch. She felt like she was going to pass out again and no longer had the strength to keep her balance. Her legs folded underneath her and she collapsed. She tried to reach for the phone to call the emergency hotline, but her eyelids were getting heavier by the second.

Darryl cracked a smile when he saw that. 'F*ck this dude! He wanted to impress Kimi, so he kept telling me to do things. He treated me as if I were his servant. I finally have the opportunity to teach him a lesson.' Wilfred and the others were happily picking Vanilla Flowers at the time. The pollen fragrance began to disperse into the air. Not far away from them, the bees were startled. Thousands of bees quickly flew out of the hive toward Wilfred and the others. The nectar of the Vanilla Flower was critical to the survival of wild bees. The bees were enraged as Wilfred and the others picked the flowers.

She forced her voice to come low. “These are fibrous rooted flowers. During autumn, they try their best to conserve water by closing their root pores. So, immediately you remove them from the soil, their root pores close even more,” I said, raising the flower to Mother’s face. Then I began to give little scratches on the roots, “By scratching their roots and dipping them into water immediately, you help reopen the closed pores and make them aware that the new environment contains water.” I demonstrated the exact same thing I told Mum before putting the flower back into the soil.

The large pretty sunflower that had it flowers so large, they could serve as umbrellas to little pups, which I had transplanted into this very vase which is right in front of me, had been pulled from the root and now lays across the wall. It had obviously been thrown to that wall, judging from the dirt on the wall. Why? Who must have such a wicked thing to something that innocent and beautiful? What is wrong with the world? I go closer to inspect the flower to see if it can still be helped. Too late. All life and nutrient had been sapped from it. A dried up root, shriveled stem and shrinkled flowers are all that remains of that once lively plant. Making it evident that this deed hadn’t been

I was simply emotionless that day. Unconsciously, I brought my hand up and stroked it's petals. As my fingers and the petals met, fluffy white turned to dead brown. Flower slowly bent downwards, then it's leaves became brown eventually falling off. One by one until only the stem remained. It did not stop there. The brown began to turn black then to dust. Flower did not wilt that day, it disintegrated. Somehow I wasn't surprised at all. It's like Flower mirrored what I felt at that moment. I guess I wasn't surprised because I always knew that somehow there was an unexplainable connection between us.