Erin Beasley
Joined June 2021
0 stories
Stories (1/0)
My Fathers Marigolds
When I was a little girl, my father planted marigolds in our garden. “Daddy?’ I would ask him “Why do you plant those silly orange flowers between our other plants?” “They protect the other plants from the baddies!’ His British accent came in strong, he would smile at me in his usual way, his eye creasing in the corners, his high cheekbones covered in their round lumps. He would laugh and tickle me as I tried to escape him through the tall, wooden garden beds in our yard.
By Erin Beasley3 years ago in Fiction