Flowers For Algernon Novels & Stories

Lucas felt his head buzzing and could not believe what he was looking at. Death certificate? Whose death certificate had Cassie sent him? A figure appeared in his mind, but he discarded the thought as soon as it came to him. No, it was impossible! Cassie had Anya transferred to another hospital. She wouldn’t have died! He slowly pulled out the slip of paper with his trembling hands. Sure enough, Anya’s name was written on the document! In denial, he began to scrub at the letters, hoping that they would come off and reveal another name, but his efforts were in vain.

I said yes and nodded like a chicken eating rice. What the hell is going on inside my head? Why do the dishes that Mrs. Alina told me to cook for Brian make me think of the health benefits of kidney tonic and sexual enhancement? Maybe I'm going crazy. Why have I turned into a pervert? If Brian knew what was affecting my thoughts at this time, he would be surprised. His eyes will bulge, and he will gape. Certainly so. The meal ended in a quiet atmosphere. The two of them went back to their room, and I stayed to clean up and wait for the people who delivered the ornamental kumquats, sunflowers, chrysanthemums, and apricot blossoms to open the gate.

Alison pulled the door open with the enthusiasm of a child knowing a present awaited her on the other side. It was day number five of flower deliveries for both herself and Vanessa. As if Alfred had somehow been a fly on the wall during their conversation about receiving flowers, Vanessa’s remained roses, with only their color altering, while Alison received a variance of bouquets. Each one bigger and better than the one before it. She carried the flowers into the kitchen, set them down on the counter, and went to the butler’s pantry to rummage for more vases. “I wonder how long he’s going to keep this up. We’re running out of vases.”

I caught the sight of her exposed thigh from the slit dress she wore, and I could feel my heart racing faster. I stood up abruptly, presenting the flowers to her as a way of hiding the enormous nervousness I felt. “Sunflowers for a lady who is as beautiful and bright as the sun" “With all pleasure, sire" Natalie said, receiving the flowers. “Thank you so much Maurice, the massage, I feel better now" I kissed her hands while she smelt the flowers. “Let's eat Nat, it's getting late. Tell me about Letticia, your new friend!"

I couldn’t hold back my tears at the sight of my own body. I stepped forward and gently brushed my hand over my face. The faint trace of tears still lingered on my skin. Before I could fully process what was happening, Lucas lunged toward me, frantically clearing away the flowers around my body. His voice was shaking, almost desperate. “Clara has asthma... there can’t be flowers in the house. The pollen will make her sick. Why would you surround her with flowers?”

Spring arrived not as a single day but as a slow unfurling, the way the silver flower had opened its petals across the weeks. Clara noticed it first in the garden—the way the memory-flowers began to stretch toward the light, their grey-green leaves brightening, their white blooms edged with a gold that had not been there before. The gold flower at the base of the stone bench had grown again, its petals now the size of both her hands, and the silver flower had sent roots across the entire garden, thin white threads visible in the soil like veins beneath skin.

Its sweet scent fills my room, a gentle reminder of his thoughts. At the diner, it's always a delivery of another flower. Each time a single stem. I've received red carnations symbolizing 'deep admiration', white gardenias for 'you're lovely', purple irises for wisdom and compliments, yellow daffodils for new beginnings. Ellen, ever knowledgeable, shares the meanings of each flower, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Miranda was right, this is what I needed, a change of scene. When I go back to my desk after lunch there’s a yellow orchid with a hand written note on my keyboard. I feel embarrassed. Obviously, it’s not for me, this is my first day, no one knows I’m here, the messenger probably made a mistake and now I’m going to have to look for the girl this was meant to. I read the note. Have a great first day, doll. Stefan. My heart skips a beat. The orchid is for me. I can’t help smiling. So Handsome Intruder is named Stefan. It’s nice to know. How did he guess orchids were my favorite kind of flowers?

ROSALINE….. “Who do you think has sent you these flower bouquets?” Winnie spoke beside me with great curiosity. “Is this Jasver or Alexei?” She was trying to find a card that could tell who had sent these. It didn't take rocket scientist to figure out who they were from. Because I knew who sent these flowers as I looked keenly at every flower bouquet. Purple Hyacinth for regret, white lilies for forgiveness, white roses for fresh start, pink roses for affection. It was none other than Alexei who sent these. I would have moved if I was the old Angelica who used to crave to get a single flower from him on her birthday, or on their anniversary day. He had never given her a single flower; now he

The next morning, Alice went to Flora’s place with some fruit and flowers. Flora was alone in the garden trimming roses when Alice arrived. The maid opened the gate for Alice and showed her the way to the backyard. She said, “Alice, you are quite polite. You always bring so much stuff every time you visit your aunt.” Before Alice could reply Flora said, “Every time I see these things, it makes me feel like you are here to visit a patient.” Alice immediately frowned and said, “No aunt Flora, I bought them because I respect you!”