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The Orange Flower Short Story

Updated on February 26, 2013

The Orange Flower

The Orange Flower

This is purely a work of fiction

The Orange Flower

Hey get down from there! There was a huge cliff below!

She looked at one lonely orange flower at the foot of the drop off. Dangerous steps were taken as the wind blew her hair back from her face. Such a beautiful flower it almost beckoned her foot off the edge of the cliff.

Lights flashed and sirens were heard, and her car motor was still running. Her footing was insecure and rested on sandstone. She looked beautiful standing there and the sun was a frame around her white dress, and blonde hair blew gently against her cheeks.

Looking back at the sirens and the cars she turned back to glance down at that orange flower. It was nestled between two rocks and there was no other flower nearby. Such a long way down, yet it seemed quiet down there. They stopped the sirens, and the lights flashed wildly in red. Beams made horrific rays against the beautiful skies. She had to escape all of it, sirens, tires, calls, and yells for her to stop.

She heard one person yell of coiurse she was in New York.

“Do it she isn’t that brave.”

That was the last thing she heard before stepping off the cliff, and the drop down had nothing to do with bravery. So quiet and such beauty in the canyon spun around her vision, and that drab cotton dress she wore wound around her body.

Before crashing to the stones below she seen the orange flower so safely tucked amongst the rocks, just like she would soon be.

They looked down to where she fell and said, “Such a shame, she was so beautiful.”

hen they got down the cliff to rescue her she was holding that orange flower in her hand undamaged without a petal off it.

The rescue men were puzzled how the flower in her hand wasn't harmed.

That is when they knew the love of nature surpassed all things.

Copyright/All Rights Reserved B. A. Williams


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