The Sound of a Daffodil Opening. Late one evening, while rereading something I had just written, I heard a faint crack from the pot of daffodils sitting on the table beside me. At first I thought I had imagined it. Then it came again. Sitting alone under a single lamp in a silent house, I realised the buds were opening. I wrote this immediately while the moment was still fresh. The Sound of a Daffodil Opening It's late in the evening. I'm alone at my table. The house lies in darkness save for a single lamp. I sit wrapped in the silence, just how I like it. Only the distant clock — tic… toc… tic… toc… My hand guides the pen back and forth across the page, turning thoughts into words and words into stories. The silence breaks — not by a neighbour's dog nor a passing car. There it is again. I stop and listen. A tiny, fragile crack. On the table beside me the daffodils begin to open...
Welcome to Tides and Crimes — a space for original short stories across many genres. Here you’ll find mysteries, thoughtful fiction, children’s tales, and character-led stories inspired by real places, real people, and moments of imagination.