This isn't what you think it's going to be.
Nothing ever is.
I remember learning the names of all the plants in my father's garden; twisted green and spots of red, yellow, purple, blue. Each with their own name and identity, something to call them by as I fell in love with them at the very same time.
Tulip, hibiscus, dandelion. The names rolled off my tongue without any effort at all.
But dandelion, dandelion, dandelion. Yellow starbursts and a white fluff that I could blow into the world hand in hand with a wish; one that I knew would come true - and it always did.
But no matter how beautiful I thought those dandelions to be, it didn't change the fact that my father kept dandelion killer under the sink in the greenhouse and ripped them from the ground as I watched from atop his dirt-dusted shoulders.
Nothing is ever what you think it's going to be.
Not even a garden.
Not even a flower.
YOU ARE READING
Narcissus
RomanceSage Kennedy is a gardener. Raised on the land, she knows there is good in all things: she seeks it out. Elliot Parker is an athlete. Coddled by his parents, adored by his friends, and enamored with the idea of his own version of stardom, he rarely...
