Wild Violets — Ruth Baker Field

They grow in my mother's garden. Their pure, silky petals reach out like the hungry arms of a lover -- yearning…caressing…waiting…I want to touch them but I am afraid.

They look so peaceful and enticing, but just like a woman they hide and deceive. Please, don't get too close to my mother's wild violets -- their beauty is evil, their fragrance is death and what lies beneath them is too horrible to see!

BLOOMING FLOWERS

They grew rampart and wild -- the violets in his mother's garden. No one had ever seen flowers like these. Such color. Such fragrance. Such abundance. People came by just to look -- and to wonder what his mother's secret was…

BLOSSOMING EVIL

But he would never tell on his mother. For if he did, their neighbors' smiles would turn to disgust. The heady perfume would nauseate them. The vivid purple would strike terror into their hearts. And they would take his mother away from him. And leave him all alone…with the horror that lay beneath the WILD VIOLETS