Young Writers Society

At first, it was just a little weed. It was tiny and delicate, just a little splinter of emerald raising its head out of the dirt. The roots have just begun to sprout. Sometimes the man liked to drown the plant with water, but the plant never died.

Day and night, the man watched over it. He could not wait for it to bloom, for the petals to open, for the flower to become free and spread its rays like the sun. He liked watching it grow. Every morning he would wake up and measure its progress, in millimeters, from the night before. Some mornings he was disappointed, for the plant has not even grown a hundredth of a millimeter. Other morning the plant was a centimeter longer!

Then there was the bud. Oh, the sweet bud, not yet open but still as beautiful. It was all green, and the fresh scent of leaves began to fill the pot of earth. The man bent his head over the plant just to breathe in the air that it let out, just to feel beauty flowing through his veins.

The man treasured it more than anything else. The window curtains were always open, so the heart of the heavens would shed its light on the little plant and create magic, make the plant mature into a flower. He had no patience for it to happen, but even though he trembled and twitched with waiting, he knew that he could not do anything but wait until the bud became a flower.

The day finally arrived. The petals opened up, and the sky was azure, beautiful. Saffron flashed onto green, water dripping from naked beauty, melting in the man’s fingers, and smelling like unsullied incense from the Sunday Indian Market.

But as the man moved his fingers over the stem, prickles of venom found their mark and stung him. Little hairs stood up on the crust of its branches. He looked at his fingertips and saw the beginning of blood. Anxiety packed in his chest: his wonderful creation was ruined, ruined! Something has happened, he knew it, this wasn’t an ordinary sunflower, sunflowers don’t sting! How could such a beautiful blossom have so many thorns?

The ugliness disgusted him. He ceased watering the plant, removed it from the sunshine, and used its leaves in his evening omelets. Gradually, the sunflower withered away. The man forgot all about it and returned to his usual activities, the plot was tossed away, the dry stems fading into the earth. The chick would find and eat it one day. It will crunch under her beak. And one of those days, that chick would turn into a beautiful bird, which will fly away into the great land of the eagle.

If only sunflowers had wings…

Bravo! The description is great, and I loved the last line, "If only roses had wings."

This is great, and i can't find anything wrong with it at all

The story is fantastic and i love this line;

He could not wait for it to bloom, for the petals to open, for the flower to become free and spread its rays like the sun.

The way you've compared the sun to the flower :]

I also like the last line;

If only roses had wings…

All in all, super :]

Ooh, melikes! Short and sweet. Your descriptions are beautiful even if the plot isn't the most original thing in the world... but hey, there are no new ideas anyway.

The roots have just begun to sprout.

Something has happened, he knew it, this wasn’t an ordinary rose, roses don’t sting! How can such a beautiful blossom have so many thorns?

One of the major problems is that you switch tenses a lot. It's in past, right? then why are these bits in present?

Other mornings the plant was a centimeter longer!

Would read better as "other mornings the plant had grown a centimeter!"

The curtains were always open, so the heart of the heavens would shed its light on the little plant and formulate magic, make the plant mature into a flower.

I didn't understand thin until the second reading. Maybe say "His window curtains" rather than "The curtains"? I thought you were making some reference to curtains on a stage or something.
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I liked the end, but the metaphor is a bit sudden. I think you should give a little longer (like maybe another paragraph) to talk about it. Ya know?

Anyway, I liked it... you might want to talk about the man a bit, but you might not. Just a suggestion.

PM me if I was unclear about anything!
~Azila

Have you ever heard "The Briar and the Rose?" That would be a good place to start. Listen.

Anyway, thanks for posting. A round of applause for your effort!

I thought this was a beautiful piece and your imagary was a work of art. I imagined it that way while reading and saw the rose, gently budding. I saw the life of a rose in one short second.

It was s short way of putting things and that made it better, as a piece like this would lose itl if anymore were added. I agree with some others when they say that the plotline is one that is used often.

One suggestion I might, add, even if your sort of keep the same plot, is to use a different kind of flower. A sunflower? Daisy? I don't know, but the rose is becoming a cliche in writing and is losing it's shine and appeal.

Good work though.

this is annoying. I find some stuff that I didn't like, and then I see that the reviewers before me have taken care of all of it. Anyway, good work! aside from the actual story line, your writing is very clear, and the descriptions are very realistic and well done. I also didn't see any gramatical errors, so that was well done.
As far as the actual story line, I have to say that I liked it. It was, as has already been pointed out, kind of cliche and not very original. But, others have done the same thing and not done as well with it as you have.

Fix the tenses and maybe switch the flowers, like gingerlizzy suggested.

Oh. Well, now that I know it's not original... DARN IT! I hate it when things aren't original. It's the thing that upsets me the most.

Well, thank you very much for the critiquing. I'll make sure to edit the piece afterwards.

Heya,

it was o.k. You're quite prolific lately. Good for you. I liked this but...do sunflowers have thorns?

The descriptions are lovely, I especially like the part about the sunflower opening to see the azure sky.

Saffron flashed onto green, water dripping from naked beauty, melting in the man’s fingers, and smelling like unsullied incense from the Sunday Indian Market.

Period after fingers, then "It smelled like..."

Other than that--this is the best description in the piece. Lovely lovely. The rebirth of the short story! You're getting some grand pieces for your portfolio.

Iliked this better as a sunflower, but as Misty said, do sunflowers have thorns?????? anyway, it's better like this.

I wasn't entertained by it and I didn't find any meaning out of it. The only good thing I can point out is that you have a fantastic descriptive ability. Bravo on that! But basically I found this story just kind of weird.

I did find some issues with it though...

At first, it was just a little weed. It was tiny and delicate, just a little splinter of emerald raising its head out of the dirt. The roots have just begun to sprout. Sometimes the man liked to drown the plant with water, but the plant never died.

This whole paragraph is a flop. The only sentences that flow are the first two. The rest of it is awkward and throws the reader off. You also switch tenses mid paragraph which is very very bad.

Day and night, the man watched over it. He could not wait for it to bloom, for the petals to open, for the flower to become free and spread its rays like the sun. He liked watching it grow. Every morning he would wake up and measure its progress, in millimeters, from the night before. Some mornings he was disappointed, for the plant has not even grown a hundredth of a millimeter. Other mornings the plant was a centimeter longer!

First thing in this paragraph that was weird was how out of the blue you said 'in millimeters'; the reader doesn't care or need to know that it's in millimeters and it disrupts the sentence. The second thing is again you switch tenses (you seem to have a consistent problem with this). Then you need to add an 's' on the end of morning.

Then there was the bud. Oh, the sweet bud, not yet open but still just as beautiful. It was all green, and the fresh scent of leaves began to fill the pot of earth. The man bent his head over the plant just to breathe in the air that it let out, just to feel beauty flowing through his veins.

add a just before as. Also change to 'breathe in the air and then let it out, just to feel beauty flowing through his veins.'

and the sky was azure, beautiful

reword this. It doesn't flow nicely. Maybe...'The petals opened up to the beautiful azure sky.'

But as the man moved his fingers over the stem, prickles of venom found their mark and stung him. Little hairs stood up on the crust of its branches. He looked at his fingertips and saw the beginning of blood. Anxiety packed in his chest: his wonderful creation was ruined, ruined! Something has happened, he knew it, this wasn’t an ordinary sunflower, sunflowers don’t sting! How could such a beautiful blossom have so many thorns?

Again, you changed tenses. It should be had.

The chick would find and eat it one day. It will crunch under her beak. And one of those days, that chick would turn into a beautiful bird, which will fly away into the great land of the eagle.

You change tenses all throughout this paragraph. It's very disconcerting.



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Hopefully I helped!

-aero

Hmm... Despite the lack of originality, I think I liked it as a rose better. A sunflower just doesn't make sense; SUNFLOWERS DON'T HAVE HORNS!

So if you don't want a rose, try maybe a cactus flower of some kind or maybe a highly poisonous flower like lily of the valley. You might have to change the plot a bit, but it will make more sense. If you can find another kind of flower that actually has horns, that would be awesome too. Do a little research, maybe and try to find something that will work better.

~Azila

Thanks to you all! You really helped me on this!

For all of you who don't like it as a sunflower, I tried telling the reader those are the little hairs on the stem, but it's not really working...I'll switch it to a rose back again as soon as possible, it's the only workable item for this piece.
Thanks!

Very nice. Your descriptions strike images in your readers heads and there's plenty of emotion, without making the reader want to cry.

At first, it was just a little weed. It was tiny and delicate, just a little splinter of emerald raising its head out of the dirt. The roots have just begun to sprout. Sometimes the man liked to drown the plant with water, but the plant never died.

Great opening. It really drew me in, and it was very sweet.

Every morning he would wake up and measure its progress, in millimeters, from the night before.

I don't quite know why, but this sentence nnoyed me. I think you should change it.

The window curtains were always open, so the heart of the heavens would shed its light on the little plant

I thought it was outside, but now you make it sound like it's inside.

omelets

omelettes

I thought the ending was great. This story is beautiful.

wow that was really nice. I like the end and i like the reaction of the man.