A Stellar Flare of Young Adult Writing and Visual Art

How to Read a Bouquet


Dear Corona,

I present you with this bouquet of flowers as I sit alone in my room. Now, don’t be flattered. All these flowers together don’t mean you’re special. No. Not in the least. 

First, I give you aloe and marigolds to represent grief. I grieve for the seniors who have lost their senior year to you. I grieve for my volleyball season that has been canceled. I grieve for my freedom and the ability to go out into the world. I grieve for the ability to feel like I’m not allergic to air. 

Next, I give you buttercups for ingratitude. Do you think I’m lucky to stay inside all day? I’m driving myself mad! I stay up thinking about my next class zoom call because it’s something to do. How can I be grateful for someone that has taken me from all outside communications? 

I then present to you geranium for melancholy. I am filled with sadness, as my best source of entertainment is to watch the water droplets slide down my bedroom window with the rainfall. I feel only sorrow as many lose their loved ones to your wicked ways and even more fall ill as they try to protect the innocent from you. You make each gloomy day even darker as I think of everyone else in tears over what you have taken from them. 

But after all this grief, ingratitude for your being, and melancholy, I give you red and white roses for unity. You may take the lives of family and friends. You may leave millions in fear of contamination. You may lock us up and make us feel worthless and sinful. You may put limitations on all that we can be and do. But after all your wicked deeds, you have brought us closer together. My family and I have never been more united then we are now. Millions of people are closer to those who mean the most, inspiring one another that all will be okay and we can fight through this battle. You have drawn communities together as neighbors shop for elders on their block or nurses and doctors who risk their lives to try and put a stop to many people’s pain. You have brought together people in faith as they voice their prayers to their gods in the hope that all will be saved. While you may not have physically united us all together, you have at heart, spirit, mind, and soul. 


Caitlin Musich

P.S. For best care, please place in vase with fresh water and accessible sunlight. 

About the Author

Caitlin Musich is a junior at Hillsdale High School in San Mateo, CA. She has enjoyed reading and writing from a young age and hopes to continue that passion into an elite liberal arts college.

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This entry was posted on November 10, 2020 by in Creative Nonfiction and tagged , , , , .
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