A blossom drops from a summer courgette, and the fruit continues to grow on the vine. Maybe a girl or a cow named Blossom comes along and nibbles what has dropped. From that a story blossoms. You see how it goes.
That’s the path writers were asked to follow — to chase after blossoms in any kind of iteration. And so they did.
The following stories are based on the July 2, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes the word blossom.
Blossom by Ann Edall-Robson
Quiet and unassuming, but don’t get her riled. Dedicated to everything she does from raising her children to providing for others. Not many are as capable of mastering their lives the way she does. She is happy with her life, her surroundings, and doesn’t ask much in return. She enjoys a wander across the field when the urge takes her and is glad for the options of shelter and a roof over her head when the weather turns ugly. She’s always been part of the extended family living at the ranch. There isn’t a better milk cow than Blossom.
Blossoming by D. Avery
As if moved by a gentle breeze, the purple blossoms nodded and swayed under working honeybees.
“They buzz like sunshine, Mommy.”
“We’ll follow when they take off with their pollen.”
Mother and daughter set across the meadow towards the hardwoods. Though they used no compass or bee box he wouldn’t be surprised if they found the hive. He saw his wife and daughter crouched at what must be another patch of clover. Well out of hearing range, he felt their laughter, a buzzing hum like sunshine. Even if they didn’t locate the hive, none of them would be disappointed.
Before Antibiotics by H.R.R. Gorman
You were so young, so tiny. You’d not even had dreams, not sought to see your goals blossom and bloom.
And here you are – in a hole, next to other families’ headstones all marked “INFANT” with a single date underneath. Could I get you one of those stones? A final blanket that might comfort you as you look down from Heaven and remember that your mother always loves you, no matter how young you were taken?
And here I am – moving on to the next grave, an unmarked patch of earth where sweet Ona, six, was buried last year.
Doing Right by Charli Mills
“What’s wrong?” Cate snapped open the canvas covering the freight-wagon. Three pale faces from within stared back in wide-eyed silence.
“Zeb broke my blossom.” Abigail, the youngest, wailed.
“Not-uh. Just made a pile of petals, teachin’ Joseph numbers like Ma did.” Zeb, the eldest, scowled. Joseph hid his face on his older brother’s shoulder.
Cate bit the stem of her pipe. She was a muleskinner not a childminder. With their parents buried three days back, none of the other families stepped up in charity. So, Cate found another blossom, wiped the tears, soothed the fear, and resumed her mules.
A Posey Piece of Reflection by JulesPaige
Many different things cross my mind. The distractions of the first summer monarch butterfly. Yet strawberry fields, or heather, blossoms are just temporary. Images that you might love to watch over and over like the way a sun sets on an ocean beach after you’ve picked your skin in the waves. But the clock ticks and time plays weirdly with your memory, making an off kilter kind of scene. One that you greedily wish you could repeat whenever you needed the calm balm of recovering from a mistake…
Sleep to dream
Of pleasant and lovely
In the Dust by Bill Engleson
I get there early. I’m always early. I sit in my Van, full of recyclables, cans, cardboard, plastic, lots of plastic.
Listening to a little blues, reading my book. The Plaque. Camus. Cheery stuff.
Traffic goes by. COVID carrying caravans of holiday makers. Each their own blossoming bubblehead.
I’m not feeling charitable.
I’ll switch to the news.
Three tykes crushed by tractor wheels back east.
A Canada Day country bucket ride.
I spot the ant.
Crossing the road.
At an angle.
It’ll be shorter.
Ants never do.
Might make it.
Far From Home by Jenn Linning
The first time I glimpsed cherry blossom in London, anguish twisted up within me. I longed to bundle the little tree into my arms like a babe, wrap her in blankets, remove her from her tiny traffic island, deliver her to my distant land where Mother Nature was monarch.
Instead I watched, horror coursing through me, as one pure pink petal dared to float towards Earth. A shriek rose and died in my throat as brave pink became mushy pulp under heavy urban rubber.
Bowing my head, I shuffled on, wrestling with what I must become to thrive here.
Tendrils by Cara Stefano
Bloom where you are planted, dear
A weed is only a flower growing in an unexpected (oft times unwanted) place or time
Stop and smell the fragile roses
Admire hardy dandelions for feeding sleepy bees
Some plants wither in the harshest desert sun
Surprising, the color and variety of desert flowers I have seen
Others flourish in cool, wet marshes
I covet the tenacity of a bramble growing up through city sidewalk cracks
Winter’s dormancy is a time of rest
And every spring tendrils of hope and growth emerge – slowly, surely
Everywhere I look: blossoms.
The Baby’s Nickname by Susan Sleggs
A month after Lexi and Adam, Tessa’s daughter and son-in-law, were settled in their new house, Emma got baptized with families present. Michael’s youth choir sang two children’s dedication songs and Adam’s parents were thrilled to see how he was accepted into the close-knit group. At the luncheon, Lexi tolerated her grandmother’s proprietorship over the baby just so long then retrieved her so Adam’s family could cuddle her too. Adam’s grandfather beamed at her and said, “So this is the new blossom that made our family grow.” And that’s how the pink-cheeked infant came to be called Emma Blossom.
Blossomed by Simon
I heard her first time over the phone, after days of work at same office, I met her first time in the cafeteria. She was having her cup of coffee, I heard her voice, realised who she is. I introduced myself to her, something between us connected immediately. Days passed, years passed, our bond grew stronger everyday. Then one day I opened up to her, she dropped her coffee cup in shock, with my good reflex I caught the cup and gave her back a ring, she said ‘Yes’. This is how our friendship blossomed into a relationship. 🥰
Blossoming by Joanne Fisher
Jennifer and Kelly first met at a marketplace. They had both wanted the same necklace, but decided to go for a drink together instead. Both considered themselves as loners believing they were better off on their own, but after they met only once, they perceived they were kindred spirits that made each other feel more whole. There was resistance from both of them at first as they began to question themselves, but they could feel themselves be drawn irresistibly to the other, like they were planetary bodies coming into one another’s orbit. Their feelings of love began to blossom.
After Midnight by Liz Husebye Hartmann
Ella arrived back home just before midnight. The golden carriage’d been delayed—unexpected maintenance—so she’d had to find her own way. Skirts rain-soaked, glass slippers…well, slippery…she shucked the gown and ran home in her chemise, dropping one slipper in the mud.
The prince was sure. The prince was an excellent tracker. He followed her prints to the kitchen door of the small estate, arriving almost before she did. Her figure was outlined in the firelight from the flickering stove. He stepped closer, slipper in hand.
She turned, muddy, skin-soaked, and utterly herself.
An eager flush blossomed his cheeks.
The Recital by R. V. Mitchell
It had been four years since Dave and Reena had visited Reena’s sister, Tracy. With things being slow in the shop, they thought that the invitation to their niece Carrie’s recital would be the perfect opportunity to catch up.
They arranged to meet at the concert venue, and Carrie was already backstage when they arrived.
Carrie made a spectacular solo performance.
As she stepped from behind her cello to take a bow, Reena said, “She has really blossomed.”
Dave’s whose gaze was firmly locked on the sixteen year old said, “She certainly has,” gaining him a well deserved slap.
Blossoms fo My Lady by Irene Waters
She lay looking skywards on the blanket of grass populated with daisies. The blue was obliterated by the huge cherry blossom in full bloom. Strange she’d never noticed it this time last year. Happiness washed over her for the first time since he’d left and she felt the coldness finally leaving her. Sometimes he brought her flowers and other times he meant to but didn’t. Either way had made her happy but that now seemed so long ago. “You kept your promise,” she whispered. “You’ve brought me flowers.” Her hand stretched out to caress the cold granite beside her.
Blossoming by kathy70
The way watercolors blossom on the paper is magical, an extra drop of water changes everything. Staring at the blank page like a writer seeing magic in the water drops I’m watching.
Soon I will leave this place and find my true home. This planet is scheduled to reverse it’s course so I can jump off.
Where I land will be like that water drop in the watercolors. My landing will change the climate and structure in this new place but will it change me? Without a parachute to guide the spot will be a surprise. Here goes nothing.
“PPG” by SGK
“The Powerpuff Girls,” my college roommates and I were labeled. The girl who opened the door for me on move-in day was Bubbles – sweet, but capable of extreme rage. I was Buttercup – spontaneous, always ready to fight. Blossom completed our dynamic trio by being the most level-headed one.
It seemed like college was going to be exactly what I expected it to be after watching enough movies. Friends for life were going to be made.
Unfortunately, Blossom and I got tired of Bubbles’ split personality quickly. Then, Blossom got tired of me.
We could have ruled the world together…
Essential by Kerry E.B. Black
Everyone feared the symptoms outlined on the news. The WHO recommended self-isolationism. Governments mandated quarantines. As beds filled, hospitals set up exterior triage units.
However, essential workers donned safety suits and reported for duty.
“How come I don’t feel essential,” Michaleigh griped as she squinted at wish lists for delivery. “Just expendable.” She packed groceries destined for 354 Victory Lane.
Break time. Finally.
She removed her mask to splash cool water on her face, then froze.
“No.” she breathed, leaning closer.
The mirror revealed what the mask obscured. Red blossomed her cheeks, the first “tell” of the deadly virus.
Light by Eliza Mimski
She grew up inside the dark alcoholic walls of her childhood. Drapes pulled. Bottles littering the table. Voices screaming.
She looked for a place of light but she couldn’t find any. Nowhere to escape.
At school, she never talked about herself or her family, then returned home to the shroud of people she belonged to.
She buried herself inside of books. She was transported to other lands far away from her home. Otherwise, she withered.
Years passed, and she received a scholarship to college. She left the house that she never wished to return to. Finally, light. She blossomed.
Every Man Is a Flower by Paula Puolakka
The boys I have met have said that girls are like foreign flowers to them. I have heard so many tales about a certain begonia or a cherry blossom that the narrations have made my mind feel like it was chewing a tasteless piece of gum.
What has driven the guys crazy is the fact that they have been unable to identify what flower I am. The reason is that I am a tree. To me, every man is a flower, and the idea has made the boys act like crybabies. Where is my carnation? I do not know.
Grandma’s Gifts by Saifun Hassam
By late June ivory and lemony magnolia blossoms were opening up, glowing in the sunshine. When Aunt May became Grandma’s caregiver, she also became the gardener.
On her walks, she photographed trees, shrubs, and gardens in bloom. She transformed the photographs into digital art. Somewhere along the line, designs emerged for fabrics, pottery, and book covers.
If you asked Aunt May what sparked her artistic journey, her eyes would light up. She pointed to the framed prints of magnolia, tiger lilies, purple iris, and tall columbine. And the many stories Grandma shared, as they enjoyed lunch on the patio.
Mature Blossoming by Yvette Prior
Sitting poolside in the moonlight, my feet dangled in tepid water
Decompressing from the flight
Ready to enjoy a few days away
life is at another crossroads
Another hot season of change to deal with
But for now…
palm trees reflected light from the garden and I remembered how God always makes a way.
In this still moment….
worth more than rubies
worth more than an easy life
Because mature blossoming is a gift from challenging experiences
Lightly splashing my feet, I feel hope in my belly.
Life’s a gift
The Order of Things by John Lane
When the flowers of drupes are in full bloom, we notice them as blossoms. Vibrant peach, cherry and orange colors emerge, marking its annual rite of spring. Our thoughts never once entertain this complex process.
The plant manager of genes, Apetala1, calls the shots. The proteins within the gene, in turn, notify the one-thousand other supervisory genes to send a “stop” signal to the plant’s meristems, the laborers assigned to the leaf production. This allows the blossoms to do their work because each member of the organic chain-of-command knows its job.
Nature proves that order is better than chaos.
Rising by D. Avery
“Sunrise coffee? Yer outta yer bedroll early Pal.”
“Yep. Set an’ injoy it. Tell ya, sure is good ta be out ridin’ the range. Don’t git me wrong, Kid. I’m right proud an’ pleased Shorty’s got us runnin’ thet saloon. But it’s a lotta time indoors. Umm. Lookit dawn, jist beginnin’ down in thet east runnin’ valley.”
“I’m lookin’, Pal. Now shush, so’s I kin see it better.”
“I hear ya.”
Swollen budded dawn
Sun’s gold-rayed petals unfold
This new day blossoms. ”
“Promises ta be a bloomin’ beautiful day, Kid. Time ta ride out.”
“Write on Pal.”