The idea is to start with a cliche, but make it into gripping fiction. This is my fourth try.
Usually, pushing up daisies wasn’t quite so literal. But, there it was. The grave, filled in less than 48 hours ago was now covered in daisies. And tulips, marigolds, and even little sunflower. Terry had been a good guy, and a good druid. He came to it late in life after a career as a landscape contractor, but he made up for lost time. The oaks in the park were healthier, the creek stayed clean, and the differing wiccan groups finally had a mediator. I would find his killer. I owed it to the daisies and to Terry