Flowers In The Attic 2014 Novels & Stories

There were steps heading up covered in green moss, decorated artfully with four-leaf clovers, clovers in general interspersed with small delicate pink stonecrop and purple Serbian bellflowers that delicately shaped a path. They climbed the seven steps into an atrium floor that opened up into a lighted area. A living room of sorts, if you ignored the only think separating them from the outside was another floor to ceiling tall sheet of glass. The room stood at a height of twelve feet with a glass ceiling that opened up with a floral design showcasing the evening sky, the dusky pink of the sun, creating an allure of transcendent cherry valance draping itself across the horizon, as the twilight

Chapter 4: The Gardener He just arrived from a walk when he saw the elderly garden keeper. He was having trouble at disembarking the potted plants, that is why he offered to help. He was aware of the woman walking towards the garden where he is. But it was unlucky for her to tripped over. he saw her looking around the garden as if drawn by its beauty that she did not watch her steps. She is short , with black hair, a very typical Asian. Not really his type. He ignored her to save her from the embarrassment but he could not believe that he could be mistaken for a gardener.

As I entered head dive into the attic all I could see was darkness inside, it was pitch black with no sign of light inside that dark and creepy attic even though it was bright sunny morning outside, I often used to ask my mother the reason behind the lack of windows or ventilation inside this attic and she always used to laugh it off and now I was wondering the same question all over again, it was so difficult to hold the ground due the lack of light as unknown darkness always used to scare me off but I have grown up now and I need to keep aside me concerns and focus on the mission so I carefully brought the lamp on the upper surface of attic through its small entrance hole. After keeping th

Fun Kat If a fashion magazine and a flower shop had a baby, it would look like this reception, Kat thought to herself as she finally walked into the hotel ballroom. She set the garter down on the bride’s table before turning to observe the room. The ballroom was antique and beautiful to begin with, but Kat was fairly sure Renee had purchased every flower in the tri-state area. Roses dominated, but there were gardenias, lilies, orchids, hyacinth, and every other flower Kat could name. She didn’t want to think about what Bob had paid to clear the stock out of fifteen different flower shops.

And bring him home. She turned to Andrei, glowing. He was looking up the staircase. Suddenly, she remembered the red flower on Tattie’s chest, and her exuberance faded. “Is there an attic here?” Andrei asked. “Can we get to the roof?” Svetlana caught his sleeve. “Don’t go up,” she exclaimed. “The house is infested. The Enemy has taken over the apartments here. This is why they sealed the upper floors.” Andrei shrugged.

Bearing down on his elbow, he pulled himself further until he could hinge at the waist and lay his entire upper torso on the dusty floor and crawl along until his legs were also through the opening. He lay there for a moment, letting his breath fall back into its normal rhythm, then raised his head to scan his surroundings. The attic was large but the ceiling was low, maybe five feet from floor to rafters, not even enough space for Patrick to stand upright. Except for a few boxes, a stack of old yellowing newspapers tied with twine, and what at first he took for some rusty fencing that he eventually recognized as a dissembled dog kennel. He could see all this because of the sunlight filterin

she opened the door ajar for us to step in as she explained. “Did you say your door was opened in your absence?” I questioned. “Yes.” I couldn't recognize the inside of my old apartment. Even Miles had to scrunch his face. Clothes were scattered everywhere with packs of half-eaten Cheetos. Cigarette ashes on the table with dirty plates. Some cleaning could help, woman. Besides that, placed in a corner, was a box with roses around it and a nice scented candle burning. By the side, a bouquet that had lotus, jasmine, hibiscus, and marigold lay on the floor. With that flower, I knew who it was.

"Listen to me, Hazel," "I'm listening," I sobbed. "Don't stand up when I get to the door, okay? Remain where you are, do you get me?" "But he's going to know that I'm here. He's going to sense me!" I cried. "Then you run," "To where?" "There's a small door in the attic. I carved it out. It's not connected to the main attic and anyone who comes looking there for you would get distracted by the main door because the other is concealed,"

The rogue roared, and I turned to see the half-finished oak wood door that leaned against the door frame, the shiny brass knob catching the falling rays of the sun almost mesmerizingly. A ton of soldiers and nursemaids had arrived at the safe house after everything that had happened and yet there was still no sign of Michael…no sign of Emily. “Where should I keep this? Your Grace?” One of the pale-faced women in a monochrome milk-maid outfit rasped behind me and I turned to see her holding a thick blue flower vase in her hands. It would go well with the chestnut wood walls of my room. “Up in the attic, please Fiona,” I whispered, and the gaunt maid with wispy blonde hair and baby blue eyes n

The doorbell rings, and I look up at Zade, but instead of saying anything, he kisses me deeply for one long, delicious moment before he moves back. “I’ll give you a minute to at least greet him,” he says before he steps back and walks off towards the kitchen area. My heart is pounding as I take a deep breath and walk over to the door. “Always check who it is, even if you’re expecting someone,” Zade murmurs. I close my eyes, realising how careless I am… how do I keep forgetting? I look through the small screen beside the door that displays the camera footage. It sure is Atticus, dressed in a grey suit, his shirt buttons open, his brown hair styled back, with a strand falling over his forehead