Jun 17
fiction challenge: Writing 2022

Seeds of Hope

The time of sitting crumpled at a desk had finally come to a close as she skipped from the school's wide doorway into the luscious daylight. The sun sprinkled down on the pressure and stress, vanishing it with its glow. Although summer seemed open and wide and perfect for being outside and letting go, she found herself sitting crumpled, once more, on the old cushy couch, gazing at a screen again. She wished she had something to be inspired by, for skipping around in the forest was wonderful, but the lack of motivation slowly tore out her remaining ounces of happiness as she succumbed. Just out the window, the garden was empty. Layers of yellowed hay blanketed its surface, and little pouches of seeds sat on a near, waiting.

A sharp pain rushed through her. Gardening was the only thing she was good at, the only thing she loved, but what good would it do in the world? She could not stand having a passion for nothing. She could not end up reaching the end of her life and realizing that she had only done things for herself.

A bright songbird twittered from just outside the window, perched on a wavering branch of a plump little tree. Its cheery song seemed to say in some sense, Although they may seem subtle, your talents can grow and inspire. She listened more closely, finally clicking the off switch on her phone and sliding her eyes shut. Mindful. Those who desire to be great and aid the world must trust in themselves that they already inspire. It mustn't be all work, no play. A wisp of knotted hair softly brushed her cheeks. She had never noticed this occurrence before---she had been far too busy with clicking and typing and looking down, believing the sun had been tucked behind a cloud, when in reality, she had never even looked for it. Look up. Trust yourself. She blinked open her eyes. Unsteady. Let it go.

She drifted up from the couch, her tender hand naturally drifting towards the seeds. She made her way to the garden as a familiar scent rose into the crisp morning air. It smelled like summer. Like breezes and flowers and rivers, not the feeling of being lost and stuck in a warp on screens and vanishing motivation. She carefully planted each seed in petite, earthy holes. Her knee rubbed against the moist, messy soil, and it felt nice. Perhaps her seeds were not directly saving the world, but they could in inspire.

The songbirds' message rattled through her head. Trust was a challenging thing to achieve, but she was getting there, slowly but surely. She looked up. Perhaps I already inspire, she thought, although she questioned this. The idea tumbled around in her mind, until she remembered: if she let the fog pass, whether it had been answered or not, perhaps the answers would come naturally, yet only when she let go of searching for them.

A young neighborhood girl watched shyly from the forest path nearby. She grinned as bright as the glimmering sun, dreaming up her future. Watching the seeds pressed softly into the dark soil, she imagined herself doing the same in years to come. Inspired, although the other may never know.

The sun finally emerged and twinkled brightly on her seeds of hope, and all others to come.