Lily Rose

Lily Rose

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge to write a 200-word story based on a photo prompt. This weeks unique photo is provided by Anurag Bakhshi.

SPF 08-19-18 Anurag 2
Photo credit: Anurag Bakhshi

Her true name was Lily Rose but folks in town called her Crazy Flower Lady. She was a gardener, the last of her kind in this part of the world. Years of drought turned the once fertile valley into a desert where only cactus survived. Everywhere except the patch of land where Lily Rose lived. There, plants and flowers thrived in a brilliance of color. No one knew how she kept a garden without water. Some said on the night of a full moon, she stood in her yard, arms stretched upward, beaconing the plant gods to breathe life into her ‘children.’

No wonder they called her crazy.

I knew the truth. Plants only survived when there is water. For the sake of all who lived in the valley, I needed to know where to find it.

I drove the dusty road to her homestead, aiming to confront the old woman. “Tell me where to find the water,” I demanded.

The old lady’s cackle sent chills down my spine. “Truth isn’t truth. You have your truth, and I have mine. The flowers bloom because they like it here.”

Quickly I left, not entirely convinced she was crazy at all.

This photo reminded me of my childhood. My Grandmother was a true gardener, able to grow anything from a sprig taken from a plant, which she often did secretly when visiting nurseries. I don’t believe witchcraft was involved but her talents were amazing. Unfortunately, I inherited none of her green thumb. I have to admit, however, that the story was shaped based on a comment I heard on television this morning. ‘Truth isn’t truth’ is just too juicy to let go. The story ended up being more menacing than originally intended, but I believe it is better for it.

Writing101 – Day Eleven

Writing101 – Day Eleven

Tell us about the home where you lived when you were twelve. Which town, city, or country? Was it a house or an apartment? A boarding school or foster home? An airstream or an RV? Who lived there with you?

The year was 1969. A lot going on that year. Richard Nixon took the oath of office as the 37th President of the United States and Neil Armstrong leaves the first human footprint on the moon. A new counter-culture took shape with Woodstock and the Beatles break-up ended a musical era. It was a year of unbelievable atrocities, of Charles Manson, the Vietnam War and My Lai.

And for me, 1969 was the pivotal year between childhood and teenage. It was the year I turned twelve. Read more