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#191 Sakura

Spring is finally here! In Japan, the season is famously marked by the mass blooming of cherry blossoms, also known as sakura, an event so beautiful it attracts tourists from all over the world. Due to its impressive yet short-lived blooming, the flower symbolizes the fascinatingly transient nature of life — but it’s also associated with a message of renewal, and hope for the future. 


To celebrate the new season, this week’s prompts are inspired by cherry blossoms and the feelings they evoke year after year 一 we hope they’ll bloom into great stories!

🥇 Winner

Lilies

Winner of Weekly Contest #191 🏆

*Trigger Warning: Pregnancy Loss “Do they come with a card?” I solemnly asked the florist, a petite, tan woman with thick blonde hair cascading down her back. The kind of hair that has become popular for women half her age to have threaded and sewn onto the base of their skull. Even though we were in West Hollywood, the pulse of trend and glamour, the three untouched horizontal lines etched onto her forehead told me that her hair was hers and that she had only passed by the fancy salons lined up around the corner on Santa Monica Blvd, neve...

136 likes 95 comments 95
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⭐️ Shortlisted

The Girl Who Played the Giuoco Pianissimo

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

February 3, 2021 I will die in this house and no one will be here to see it. The thought comforts me. **************************** “You smoke too much,” Ash said, eyeing the full ashtrays in the living area. He plopped himself down on the sofa and waited for Portia to finish what she was doing. Portia took off her headphones and leaned back against the back of her chair, stretching, and rubbing her neck. She refilled her glass and drank deeply before moving to a chair opposite her brother. “You also drink too much,” he added. “I smoke the pe...

53 likes 73 comments 73
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Life After Death

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

The rescue plane traced distant contours, circling, seeking, never nearing. Henry searched for a break in the canopy through which to attract attention, but the dense foliage clung and clawed, engulfing him in greenery slick with the jungle’s sweat. From the sky, he was invisible. The faint whirring of the engines taunted him like the whining mosquitos feasting on his blood, stealing him drop by drop from the refuge of his skin.Although last night’s violent storm had cleared, spent after tossing and tumbling the plane from the sky, the air i...

47 likes 38 comments 38
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Soso

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

The Toymaker. Thomas. The Prodigy. Taking the River Trail. The dragonfly ornithopter remained still on the craftsman’s workbench. Inside its balsawood frame were scaled clockwork machinations - guts of miniaturized pistons, cranks, servos, and gears - that lay exposed in its abdomen. Four paper-thin metallic wings were secured to its thorax, and it had round eyes of polished purple kunzite. The tiny marvel was surrounded by an assortment of fine, delicate tools, a visor of sliding loupe magnifying glasses, cabinets filled with spare parts, a...

41 likes 50 comments 50
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A True (Ghost) Story

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

A TRUE (GHOST) STORYby Daniel DundinIt started with a jar of eye cream. She had left the little canister on her dresser yet when she returned from work it was on the floor, broken. She had cleaned it up and worried more about the cost of replacing it than how it had plunged to its death.Two days later, it was the shower curtain. She’d found it lying in a heap, tangled around its rod, jutting from the tub. Perhaps the tension was getting old, she'd thought, the springs not holding as they should.Today it was the kitchen cabinet. The doors hun...

37 likes 17 comments 17
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Love Language- A Regency Romance

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

The Honourable Michael Sedgwick briskly made his way down Grosvenor Square, his cane, a pure affectation, swinging and clicking on the cobblestones. He was unpardonably punctual, a habit he had inherited from a lifetime of country living. His maternal grandmother had meticulously pounded into his head the value of every minute of the day, emphasising that punctuality equaled profit. Of course, she was also considered quite vulgar in the extreme and he was working hard to forget her every lesson.Michael...

35 likes 32 comments 32
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Memories of Magnolia

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

“Look, magnolias! I love magnolias. I haven’t seen magnolias since…”She falls silent, and I follow her gaze to the gnarly tree trunks decorated with bowl-shaped flowers. As I watch, the delicately coloured blooms smudge together, and I blink rapidly, more for Anya’s sake than mine.If I have learnt anything over the last thirteen months, it is that I am no longer afraid of tears. I welcome them. They remind me I am alive. But Anya has more reason to cry. She has lost more. So, I feel embarrassed that my emotions leak out easily, while everyth...

21 likes 10 comments 10
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The Virtue of the Foxtrot

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

I won complimentary passes for Wednesday afternoon lessons at the Cheek to Cheek dance studio. I never win anything, and at the time, I wished my losing streak had remained intact. The "gala dinner" at the church hall was designed to raise money to preserve a local heritage home - McDougal House. Hattie Headly had donated the passes. Her sister was married to an English dance instructor who was a Canadian champion within some sort of specific category. There are always enough competitions and levels to reward decent talent, even if it is jus...

20 likes 6 comments 6
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Feeble Hope

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

Love was stored inside an egg. Charlie remembered his father saying that. Not once or twice, but many times in multiple ways, and always with a bright smile. Charlie liked remembering his father smiling. If someone cooks you an egg, they love you. Simple as that. That was the core of his father’s argument. That eggs could embody all love the way Paul described it to the Corinthians – patient and kind, giving away all it had without arrogance or resentment. Eggs were resourceful, unobtrusive, a tiny mass of potential. If there were eggs...

16 likes 8 comments 8
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This week's prompts

Start your story with your character(s) going to buy some flowers.

– 77 stories

Write about a character who is starting to open up to life again.

– 68 stories

Write a story about a character who’s late to witness a special event.

– 24 stories

Make Japan (or Japanese culture) an element of your story.

– 37 stories

Write a story that includes someone saying, “I feel alive.”

– 68 stories

Stories

Lilies

Winner of Weekly Contest #191 🏆

*Trigger Warning: Pregnancy Loss “Do they come with a card?” I solemnly asked the florist, a petite, tan woman with thick blonde hair cascading down her back. The kind of hair that has become popular for women half her age to have threaded and sewn onto the base of their skull. Even though we were in West Hollywood, the pulse of trend and glamour, the three untouched horizontal lines etched onto her forehead told me that her hair was hers and that she had only passed by the fancy salons lined up around the corner on Santa Monica Blvd, neve...

136 likes 95 comments 95
Read story

The Girl Who Played the Giuoco Pianissimo

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

February 3, 2021 I will die in this house and no one will be here to see it. The thought comforts me. **************************** “You smoke too much,” Ash said, eyeing the full ashtrays in the living area. He plopped himself down on the sofa and waited for Portia to finish what she was doing. Portia took off her headphones and leaned back against the back of her chair, stretching, and rubbing her neck. She refilled her glass and drank deeply before moving to a chair opposite her brother. “You also drink too much,” he added. “I smoke the pe...

53 likes 73 comments 73
Read story

Excalibur

Weekly Contest #191

I’m not like most people. I accepted that a long time ago. To be honest, I hate that label, anyway. What does it even mean? Everyone has their burdens to bear, right? We all have those little things that come so easily to other people but drive us insane. For some people, that’s dating and the hot flush that scrambles their brains every time they even think about talking to someone they like. For others, it’s reading or writing and how the words swim across the page, turning what should be a simple task into a nightmare. For me, it’s the out...

47 likes 35 comments 35
Read story

Life After Death

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

The rescue plane traced distant contours, circling, seeking, never nearing. Henry searched for a break in the canopy through which to attract attention, but the dense foliage clung and clawed, engulfing him in greenery slick with the jungle’s sweat. From the sky, he was invisible. The faint whirring of the engines taunted him like the whining mosquitos feasting on his blood, stealing him drop by drop from the refuge of his skin.Although last night’s violent storm had cleared, spent after tossing and tumbling the plane from the sky, the air i...

47 likes 38 comments 38
Read story

Renewal

Weekly Contest #191

When Jack set out to buy a red dahlia on the morning of the 29th of March, he didn’t expect he only had hours left to live. But even if he would have known he still would have bought it, because it was for Lisa. And he’d do anything for Lisa. He hit the cool, hard dirt of his barn, just as the sun began setting. It had been a lukewarm day with a cutting breeze, and with each laboured breath, with each wet wheeze, he felt himself grow colder. There was a warm patch on his chest, and another pooling around his back and shoulders. And there was...

46 likes 54 comments 54
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Soso

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

The Toymaker. Thomas. The Prodigy. Taking the River Trail. The dragonfly ornithopter remained still on the craftsman’s workbench. Inside its balsawood frame were scaled clockwork machinations - guts of miniaturized pistons, cranks, servos, and gears - that lay exposed in its abdomen. Four paper-thin metallic wings were secured to its thorax, and it had round eyes of polished purple kunzite. The tiny marvel was surrounded by an assortment of fine, delicate tools, a visor of sliding loupe magnifying glasses, cabinets filled with spare parts, a...

41 likes 50 comments 50
Read story

On Cherry Tree Lane

Weekly Contest #191

When the April winds blow, the first blossoms drift, like a wedding party has passed, carpeting the pavements of Cherry Tree Lane in confetti. The streets are so colourful you can easily feel like you’ve stepped from the pavements through the frame of a painting, and you’re sauntering through a shimmer of pastels along with everyone else, out for a Sunday morning stroll. The beautiful scent perfumes the air and passers-by are like bees, drawn to the heavy pink clusters swaying overhead. My aunt stops beside me and inhales deeply. “Oh Li...

40 likes 26 comments 26
Read story

A True (Ghost) Story

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

A TRUE (GHOST) STORYby Daniel DundinIt started with a jar of eye cream. She had left the little canister on her dresser yet when she returned from work it was on the floor, broken. She had cleaned it up and worried more about the cost of replacing it than how it had plunged to its death.Two days later, it was the shower curtain. She’d found it lying in a heap, tangled around its rod, jutting from the tub. Perhaps the tension was getting old, she'd thought, the springs not holding as they should.Today it was the kitchen cabinet. The doors hun...

37 likes 17 comments 17
Read story

Love Language- A Regency Romance

Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️

The Honourable Michael Sedgwick briskly made his way down Grosvenor Square, his cane, a pure affectation, swinging and clicking on the cobblestones. He was unpardonably punctual, a habit he had inherited from a lifetime of country living. His maternal grandmother had meticulously pounded into his head the value of every minute of the day, emphasising that punctuality equaled profit. Of course, she was also considered quite vulgar in the extreme and he was working hard to forget her every lesson.Michael...

35 likes 32 comments 32
Read story

T.G.I.F.

Weekly Contest #191

T.G.I.F.  Not because it’s the end of my work week. I retired a decade ago. T.G.I.F. Not because I’m heading south for a week of surf and sunshine. No chance of that. My only income is old age pension and some pennies I’m paid for reviewing books.  But T.G.I.F., because that’s the day that Reedsy teases me with 5 new writing prompts and I feel myself coming alive again. No, I’m not kidding. You see, after not writing anything but reviews for 7 years; after being bored stupid during covid and too scared to attend writer meet...

35 likes 51 comments 51
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A Beer Day for Lilies

Weekly Contest #191

Every time we went for lilies, a letter would disappear.“Ptr tlls m that us that w can’t lav lttrs bhnd whn w go to the flowr shop,” we would say to each other, “H says h knows it’s an honest mistak, but nvrthlss.”Peter is our uncle. Our GREAT-uncle, although not really, because a Great-Uncle is a real thing and not just an uncle you think is great. Peter seems like more than an uncle to us. He’s actually more like a father when you get right down to it. Our Father is lovely, but he’s not around very often and he doesn’t take us on outings. ...

33 likes 20 comments 20
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The Fourth Gift

Weekly Contest #191

Jed hastily bundled his belongings together. He was late. He was always late. As part of the Traveling Magi show, he needed to be more organised, but he couldn’t seem to get his act into gear. The others had left without him, admonishing him to catch up when he could and to not delay too long.It hadn’t been his fault. The first set back happened as he piled his belongings onto the camel. The beautiful lead crystal bottle and rattle set had fallen off the other side and shattered over the pavement. Cas had just looked at him, d...

32 likes 39 comments 39
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DOLORES-DELILAH

Weekly Contest #191

Dolores sealed the last box of her mother's memorabilia and shoved it into the corner of the bedroom. All the furniture had been sold off weeks earlier. Now, at last, mother's knick-knacks, photos, hymnals, holy cards, and sets of rosary beads were neatly buried in the boxes. Packing up these religious treasures made Dolores feel guilty, but Delilah, her rebellious alter-ego didn’t."Just do it!" Delilah coaxed. "There's no point keeping this stuff. My plans for the future don't include reminders of the past. They're good for nothing more tha...

31 likes 44 comments 44
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Fish Story

Weekly Contest #191

In the pink sagebrush dawn, a herd of better than thirty brown-hided antelope stare at me from a hundred yards. I slow when my jeep makes the turn and they dart off as one, like an earth-bound flock of brown and white starlings locked in formation. They're soon lost on the featureless plain. Speeding back up, the four wheel drive rumbles down a mud road, crosses snow still left from winter in patched places, powers through, and then after miles of prairie flat, comes to the trailhead on the western slope of the range. I unload my p...

30 likes 29 comments 29
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A Day Late And A Dollar Short

Weekly Contest #191

One of the managers at the small firm where I worked, way back when, I found to be a rather woeful sort of person. He was a nice enough guy, Ian, he was called, but he was really boring. We were talkative and friendly at work but when he’d tell me about what he’d get up to at the weekend, it was always around-the-house type stuff. Things like cleaning out the conservatory, watched a good film on television or maybe gave the grass a good cutting on a sunny Saturday during the summer. I don’t think he ever actually said but it was evident...

30 likes 22 comments 22
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