Monday Microburst: When Silence Blossoms
Magical. Mystical. Meaningful. Monday Microburst
Every week, I’ll share a tiny tale from Plymbury—the coastal New England town where all my stories live. These moments are short enough to read over morning coffee or tea, yet just long enough to leave a trace of magic in your day. I hope they become a small ritual you look forward to each Monday.
When Silence Blossoms
Late afternoon sunlight spilled over the patio, setting the ocean on fire with streaks of gold. Ashley wove through the tables with her easy smile, balancing trays with bowls of clam chowder and iced coffee as gulls wheeled overhead.
At a corner table, a woman sat alone, her hands curled around a sweating glass of lemonade. She didn’t look sad, exactly—just thoughtful, her gaze fixed somewhere between the horizon and her heart.
Ashley stopped beside her. “How are you doing over here?” she said, setting down a tiny glass vase with a daisy whose petals were closed tight.
The woman gave a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m waiting for someone. I don’t know exactly what to say to her. It’s been so long.”
Ashley tilted her head toward the ocean. “Waves are magical, aren’t they? The tide goes out, sometimes far, but it always comes back.”
The daisy trembled and slowly began to unfurl until the bloom opened, its white petals hugging the golden center.
The woman’s breath caught, and she reached out to touch the flower. “Did you—?”
Her fingers lingered on the bloom, and Ashley knew . . . the tide was already returning.
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