By Bridget Beth Collins

The Spirits of Flowers

We were driving along the coastal cliffs of Croatia, the Mediterranean sea was shining below us with green islands smothered with white buildings and palms. Here and there exotic wild flowers dotted the roadside, whizzing too fast by my window to see clearly. “STOP the car!” I yelled. “Wild irises!” I had never seen wild…

Our Aurora

Yesterday Beau and I got into a fight. I was upset about something, he told me not to be, I told him he was being mean, he told me I shouldn’t tell him how to be, then I told him he started it…we were like a dog chasing its own tail. Miscommunication, lost in translation.…

Fern

Crumbled, wet earth slowly erupts with green magma. A tiny frond emerges from the dark earth. It blindly searches for light in a forest of low lying fog. It rises, up, up, up, but cannot find the slightest inclination there is anything waiting for it, so it begins to unfurl. I am afraid of the…

Worth the Risk

Mist curled around the edges of dark hills in the distance, lines and lines of vineyards flipped past like the pages in an old rolodex. I lay my head lazily to the glass of the bus window, satisfied with my choice: I had chosen to say yes to Adventure. To Unknown. To the call of…

From wing dust

During the summer before third grade a large manila envelope came in the mail with my name on it. Inside was a letter T on tag board paper, and instructions to decorate the T however I pleased, then bring it to class with me on the first day of school. I immediately got to work. …

Rose-colored memories

Through sparkling shards of amethyst and translucent rose petals I remember. An A-frame cabin in the snow, woolen knee socks and a window covered in frost. An agate slice wrapped in tissue from my father. A brush of rouge on my cheeks from my mother after I’d eagerly watched her adorn her own face. Driving…