One evening, a storm knocked the pot over. Soil scattered. Petals bruised. Belinda knelt on the floor, cupping the broken stem in her hands. She thought of giving up.

by an open window

Shiny was no ordinary bloom. Its petals were the color of lemonade at sunset, and they seemed to hold light even in the dark. When Belinda was sad, she would touch one petal, and it would glow faintly, as if whispering, I’m still here. You’re still here.

But instead, she found a bigger pot. Fresher soil. And she replanted Shiny with the gentleness of someone stitching a wound.

Weeks passed. Shiny grew back — not just as it was, but brighter. Its petals now shimmered even in the rain. And Belinda understood: shiny doesn’t mean unbreakable. Shiny means choosing to grow again when the world breaks your pot.

Belinda | Shiny Flower

One evening, a storm knocked the pot over. Soil scattered. Petals bruised. Belinda knelt on the floor, cupping the broken stem in her hands. She thought of giving up.

by an open window

But instead, she found a bigger pot. Fresher soil. And she replanted Shiny with the gentleness of someone stitching a wound. One evening, a storm knocked the pot over