The Beautiful Flower – a short narrative

The Beautiful Flower

I am beautiful, thought the flower. I am the most beautiful flower in this garden; just look at how my long, slender stem, perfect in its vertical ascent, opens up to reveal these wide, multicolored, sweet smelling petals. My stem is a perfect green, my leaves are luscious and fully, my petals a glorious shade of pinkish red with a hint of white. Birds sing for me, people walking around stare at me and smile admiringly. I am a beautiful flower.

On a warm, summer day much like the rest, there came a man. He gazed upon the flower and said to himself, that is a beautiful flower.
He likes me, she thought.

Day after day the man would come to visit; several times he would kneel down to pour what remained of his bottled water at the stem of the beautiful flower. The nourishment soothed her almost as much as the admiration she received from this man.

This is perfect, thought the beautiful flower.

Is this love?


The next time the man came, the beautiful flower turned even more beautiful as a result of his attention. This time however, something was different. As the man knelt down the beautiful flower realized he was not holding a bottle of refreshing water. He reached for her stem with unkempt nails.

That hurts, what are you doing to me? Why are you doing this? The beautiful flower cried out hysterically. In one swift move, his sharp nails tore through her slender stem. As the fluid began to seep from her now severed stem, she rose higher and higher as the man stood up, carrying her between his fingers, up to his eye level. He brought her closer to his nostrils inhaling her intoxicating scent.

What is happening to me, thought the beautiful flower as she grew weaker and weaker, the life fluid seeping from her slender stem.

Is this love? thought the beautiful flower.


The man takes out his notebook to give to his girlfriend. Tucked away between its pages of white is a withering flower, a sickening brown in its complexion.

This beautiful flower is for you, said the man. It will last forever.

The once beautiful flower looks up and attempts to smile. He called me beautiful.

Is this love? thought the once beautiful flower.

August 2011 ( View complete archive page )

September 2011 ( View complete archive page )

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