Roses

Apprehension accompanied me to my car. How would they react? With sadness? Indifference?I placed the bouquet lovingly into the trunk, holding back tears.

The intended beholders knew nothing of its history. Nor of the person who presented it to me. Roses, once of warmth and vivid pink, had crumpled to shades of aged dryness. Like his love did, when he left for another and I didn’t realize he meant it for real.

I set the vase onto my desk in the classroom, for my art students to observe, interpret and present their creativity onto canvas—of a life stilled.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Visitor

When I visited his grave, the grass had not been cut, and the mixed bouquet of flowers someone placed in the ground were wilted. I walked to the office, and the receptionist told me their groundskeeper quit, and they just hired someone new to take his place. She assured me the cemetery would be taken care of in a few days. I’m not a frequent visitor so I wouldn’t know if that’s true.

I removed the dead flowers and replaced them. Then I said a prayer and asked again for forgiveness for my recklessness that put him in the ground.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Sunshine

I sat parked with the seat back and the radio playing classical music. The weather forecast called for sunshine, but it began to drizzle. I decided to wait and hoped the rain would pass. I had nowhere else to go, so sticking it out was the logical choice. As the rain subsided, I shut the radio, raised the seat and turned the car off.

I walked to the grave site of my wife and placed a bouquet of daisies on the stone.

“I’m here as promised.”

I knelt and said a silent prayer.

The sky clouded and then it poured.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Homecoming Surprise

Izzy rubbed her protruding stomach. It’d been months since she’d seen him, and soon he’d find out she was pregnant.

Sam was on his way home, the war ended. Izzy prepared his favorite meal, lamb with cut string beans and mashed potatoes. The aroma of cooked meat and vegetables filled the room.

The doorbell rang and Izzy hastened to answer it. There in the doorway stood Sam holding a bouquet of freshly cut flowers.

Sam stared at her stomach. “Izzy, are you?”

Before he could finish the sentence, she pulled him into a hug and screamed yes, the meal forgotten.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Lie

I hung up the phone and ten minutes later the doorbell rang. I peeked through the blinds, and it was James. I'd told him I didn’t want to see him anymore and he was on the stoop, holding a bouquet of red roses.

He lied to me, and flowers wouldn’t make it better.

My head ached and I was exhausted from stress. I looked out again and he was sitting on the step now. Good, let him wait, I thought.

I shut the lights, went upstairs, and made myself a hot bath. Soon after, I heard his car screech away.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Black Figures

He rested on the soft surface, observing one among the many roses surrounding him, the white petals layering atop each other. Whimpering from piercing screams, trembling from blaring sirens, shutting his ears tightly with his hands couldn’t help. Two black figures stood over him. One leaned closer, tenderly stroking the boy’s forehead. ‘You love flowers, don’t you?’ it whispered. He smiled, and the other handed him a bouquet. ‘Let’s leave him some peace now, shall we? And I’m quite certain he does—loved them since birth.’ It nodded, and with a thud, blocking the perceivable, the velvet lid slid over him.

From Guest Contributor Lo Xing Le

Clever

Sydney prides herself on her cleverness. Her teachers and prospective lovers (usually different) always commented it was her most identifiable trait.

So it's frustrating when this critical character component fails to impress. Like when she explains to the traffic cop that coming to a complete stop was both unnecessary and a waste of fuel, and she's doing everyone a service.

Or when she told Ian that kissing her boss simply made her appreciate Ian more as a boyfriend.

Neither did he laugh at her joke about the dog dropping his bouquet of white flowers to bark at its own reflection.

Wilted Lily

Sarah awakened from a frightening dream, her nightgown pasted to her body in sweat. Her husband, Mark, was still asleep, so she gently lifted the covers, went to the bathroom, and splashed cool water on her face. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and remembered every detail.

It was her wedding day. At the altar she couldn’t breathe, her body slowly disappeared, and her bouquet of lilies fell to the ground.

“It was just a bad dream,” she whispered to herself.

She softly kissed her husband and went back to sleep.

Under the bed, rested a wilted lily.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Sweet Lullaby

Brianne gently swung the bassinet humming a lullaby. It had been in her family for years and it was her turn to place a baby in it.

She decorated the nursery with teddy bears and yellow duckling wallpaper. She spent the majority of her time in the baby’s room holding the many tiny onesies her family gave her and reading the children’s books for the baby’s library.

“Honey, I’m home,” said her husband Greg as he entered the room with a bouquet of freshly scented red roses.

Brianne began to weep.

It was time to tell him about the miscarriage.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Cemetery Sentiment

in this silent graveyard,no one mentioned death.the hair on my arms stood at attention,like soldiers in the cold war.temperature below freezing,any moisture turned into iceand fell onto his eyelashes.just before midnight,we grabbed a bouquet ofplasticyellowroses.he quivered from the cold,but his smile never faded.vows spilling from his lips,like a waterfall made of his soul.his nose was cold against mine,after the final words of our connection.pulling away he looked at me,a shimmer in his eyes,knowing,that forever,he will always be mine.

From Guest Contributor Neyalla Ryu