Bits of Writing, Flash Fiction Challenge

Day 3: The language of flowers, pyjamas, a secret passageway

Flowers. Her porch was covered with the flowers. It looked as though a flower store had exploded over the Victorian porch.

I guess this is what happens when you’re famous and your hero boyfriend dies. Hannah looked around her living room, catching her reflection in the mirror. Oversized pajamas, crazy hair, and dark circles under her eyes. She certainly didn’t want to be caught by an overzealous paparazzi looking like this.

It was odd, the flowers. No one knew her mom’s address.

“Hey mom?” Hannah called out through the house as she walked around. She stepped into the kitchen, expecting to see her mother.

Nothing. No, no wait. A note.


Gone to the store. Who left the roses? They’re beautiful. 

– Mom 

“Guess that answers that.” Hannah crumbled the note, throwing it in the trash can as she peeled a banana.

It was odd, she thought, to be home. She hadn’t been back to Virginia in nearly five years, not since her TV show took off. And now she was back.

Because he was dead. Her boyfriend, her partner, the love of her life was dead. He’d died a hero. Raiding a terrorist cell with his SEAL unit.

This weekend was supposed to be their wedding, not Chris’ funeral.


She stepped out of the bathroom, toweling her hair and feeling more like herself. Now, the flowers. She padded through the house, headed to the porch. Hannah stopped short when she noticed it.

The flowers were inside. On her mom’s coffee table.

“Hey honey. I heard you in the shower so I thought I’d bring the flowers in. There was a note with them.”

“Oh, thanks mom. I didn’t realize you were back. I’d almost thought that someone had somehow gotten in with more.”

Hannah picked up the note, her stomach wiggling as the handwriting looked somewhat familiar. It reminded her of Chris’ but that was impossible.

The language of flowers is beautiful. I know you miss Chris but I hope these will remind you of your first date with him. 

“The language of flowers? What does that mean? Why would I want to be reminded of our first date right now?” She put the note down and looked at the flowers. Purple and pink hyacinths, primrose and azaleas.

An unusual combination to be sure. What flowers did people usually send for grief? Wasn’t it usually lillies?

But her first date with Chris. They’d gone just down the road, to the Underground Railroad passages in Gettysburg.


30 Day Flash Fiction Challenge Day 2 Day 4

3 thoughts on “Day 3: The language of flowers, pyjamas, a secret passageway”

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