Never Dying Flowers Novels & Stories

I wasn't about to wreck a home. "So dumb." I wipe my eyes on my knees, but the tears don't stop. I look up and can see people making their way through the trees towards me. I sniff and rest my chin on my hands. My eyes trail down, and through my blurry vision, I can see dozens and dozens of flowers blooming around me. I furrow my brow, wiping at my eyes again and moving to sit on my knees and crouch over the flowers. I hadn't wiped my hands on the ground, but they were still blooming. Pink ones, purple, white. Still smaller than a quarter, but slightly bigger than the last ones I made bloom. And there were a lot more of these too. They continued to appear around where I sat as I watched.

I caught a glimpse of her phone screen, a name that read 'Wade Lawson'. I forced myself to focus, pulling up a list of what to pack for a humanitarian mission to Avrika, jotting down each item. Then came Wade's latest social media update. [Nothing like a hot bowl of noodles to warm the soul. Thank you for your support in tough times.] The photo showed a bowl with two fried eggs piled up on the noodles. Off to the side was Yvonne's hand, with the ring I had splurged on catching the light. It was not our wedding band. That had been lost to time, just like the warmth she had never really shared with me.

And there was only them and no one else. The silence was profound, broken only by the soft rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. Florence, her eyes filled with tears, placed a bouquet of lilies on the grave. They were Nora’s favorite flower, a symbol of purity and innocence. Chaos, his expression somber, stood beside her, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. As they stood there, the enormity of Nora’s loss washed over them. She was gone, a victim of a cruel and unjust world. But her spirit, her strength, would live on, a testament to her resilience.

I finally manage to say, grabbing the bouquet, "Wait, is this... fake? Henny, are these artificial flowers?" "Yes. I thought long-lasting flowers would be more romantic, I think buying flowers that are going to die in like a week is really stupid. I'm against it," he explains, making me chuckle. Of course he has a strong opinion on flowers, "So, yeah, you like it?"

I might have the perfect idea after this scandalous situation. "I thought of something we can do for the project," I say, still looking at the front. "Have you ever watched Beauty and the Beast?" I glance at him from the corner of my eye and he nods his head. He leans closer, his hands resting on his thighs. "That flower, with the falling petals. We could make a rose. A petal can float in the air, like the wind blowing the petal, for everyone who left our life. For everyone that died, a petal will lay on the ground. Just black and white," I say and finally turn my head to look back at him.

I rubbed my hands down my face, whispering into the darkness, “You’re not gone. You’re here. I can feel you.” Beside me, Vanessa stirred again, half-asleep. “Adrian… who are you talking to?” I froze. Then forced a smile she couldn’t see in the dark. “No one. Go back to sleep.” But I wasn’t fooling anyone—not even myself. --- Days blurred into nights. I cornered Rachel with questions only Sheila should have answered. “What was my wife’s favorite flower?” She blinked, her lashes lowering. “I wouldn’t know, sir.” “What did she fear the most?”

Now, battered and barely clinging to life, he lay on his back in the blood-soaked grass, staring up at the endless sky. "Rena… I—I've avenged you… "At first, I just thought… Lily was my first love, and she was suffering. You were my mate, and you loved me so much… I thought you'd understand. That you'd forgive me for saving her…" "But now… I'm dying too. I'm sorry… I was wrong… Can you ever forgive me?" Regret filled his eyes as tears slipped down his face. However, I felt nothing. I only felt my soul growing lighter and weightless.

he walks off and kneels next to a small patch of Crimson Beebalm. Crimson Beebalm is a stunning flower. The petals are long and slender and they come out of a hairy looking center that is connected green leaves that look like they support the bud and a long smooth green stem. Best of all, it’s edible so I’ll be collecting some of it for the camp. Wait, what did he say? “It’s obviously either red or yellow, I don’t know of any grey muted colored flowers, the center even looks black.”

Colin did not know how to respond. Although Olivia was talking about Snowball, Colin had the feeling that she was talking about her own funeral instead. "I've got it, Olivia." "It has to be the tallest tree in the yard. That tree blooms with branches full of plum blossoms in the winter. "The scent of the flowers goes well with the cold white snow. I'll be waiting for her there." No one would have guessed that she meant she would be waiting there after she was dead.

"Here, take my hand. Even if you fall, I'll be there to help you stand back up again" His Flower's Point Of View The thick stench of blood was strong in the smoke filled air. My nose wrinkled as I inhaled the scent. My instincts had me gagging, maybe too loudly. Another scream echoed from not too far away and I squeezed my eyes shot, willing the horrifying sound of pain to disappear. A small sound of desperation escaped my parted lips and I froze in my position. That was loud. More loud than I thought it would be.