This is a story for Friday Fictioneers, which is hosted by Rochelle. Every week you are challenged to write a 100 word story based on a photo.
Thanks to all the readers for their time, too.
Why do roses have thorns?
Why do they smell sweet?
My garden blooms with roses, but why do I see you. Their fragrance embraces me like it’s you.
Our relationship had just started to bloom. Our bond was only getting sweeter. Each day as I sank in your arms, thinking we were strong; you knew, life’s petal was being plucked slowly from you.
Clutching garden scissors I ask, “What shall I do of these… you had planted them so well?”
I prune the dead ones. For the plants, I let the water seep into their soil that holds them.