Saturday 6 October 2012

The Rose Garden - Microfiction

I don't write much short fiction. My flash fiction frankly sucks, and I greatly admire those who can manage to write good flash fiction. I have never written microfiction - this one just came to me, and demanded to be written. And since I have nothing better to do with it, I might as well share it.

~

The rose garden was dying.
She stared out the window, at her husband, watering the front garden; a garden where no roses grew. Once, she had compared herself to a  friend. I am a rose garden, she had said, and you a cactus. Where you can survive on what little moisture you find, I require frequent watering. 
Now, the ground had baked and cracked; the roses wilted, and died.


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5 comments:

Dionne Lister said...

Loved it! Nice metaphor ;)

Ciara Ballintyne said...

Thanks :-) I don't think I'll explore microfiction much, but this one had to be written. I like the metaphor too.

Tom Stronach said...

Sounds like my health over the last 6 weeks, shrivelling upd and dying

jacobstefen said...

Thanks for sharing.


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Ciara Ballintyne said...

Oh no! that's not good!

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