Briony Waits for the Wink — Under the flower chapel’s high roof, Briony held her bouquet very still and counted rose petals instead of footsteps. Read the full story →
Under the flower chapel’s high roof, Briony held her bouquet very still and counted rose petals instead of footsteps. The air smelled of beeswax, fresh stems, and the peppermint tucked in her sleeve for later. Everyone had gone to fetch the missing ribbon for the music bell, so Briony waited beneath the arch and whispered, “If one blossom winks first, I win.”
The roses did not wink. The daisies did not wink. A leaf tickled her veil, and the lace made a soft shhh against the floor. Briony counted to eighty-seven, then ninety-two, then forgot whether a daisy with six petals counted as showy or suspicious.
At last, a tiny green beetle stepped out of the biggest rose, wearing a crumb of gold thread like a sash. He lifted two twig-thin legs, and every flower in the arch opened one petal, closed it, and opened it again. They had not been ignoring her; they were rehearsing a blink big enough for a princess who could wait. Next time you spot Briony’s bouquet, see if you can find the beetle who started the wink.
