Kiko’s Jingle Bloom — Every evening, Kiko shook his striped leaves just enough to make the gold stars on his branches click-clack, but the winter glasshouse stayed hushed except for the heater’s sleepy hum and the smell of damp clay. Read the full story →
Every evening, Kiko shook his striped leaves just enough to make the gold stars on his branches click-clack, but the winter glasshouse stayed hushed except for the heater’s sleepy hum and the smell of damp clay. He wanted the night guards, the moths, and the old orange tree to laugh so hard the glass panes fogged.
Until one day, a fat flower bud near Kiko’s elbow tickled. Because of that, he poked it with a spine. Because of THAT, the bud popped open and spat out a tiny silver bell that had been hidden where nobody looked—inside tomorrow’s bloom. “Well, that’s rude,” Kiko whispered, delighted.
He rang it once. Ting! The hanging stars bounced. The moths hiccuped glittery dust. The orange tree dropped three leaves like applause. Finally Kiko shook every stem, and the whole glasshouse jingled, snorted, and swayed with shared joy. If you spot the flower that looks most likely to keep secrets, maybe it is still laughing about the bell in tomorrow’s bloom.
