Rose

The rose blooms quietly, shyly, on the vine.

There are so many lovely flowers in this lush, beautiful garden.

But this rose, somehow, she catches his eye more than the others.

Maybe it is the depth of the red that attracts.

Like fire, or passion, a message is in this red.

And the petal is so soft, it feels like velvet.

He cant resist to plunge his nose into the center, and inhale.

“Mmmmm”, so intoxicating.

He can’t stand to leave it there.

He touched it, he inhaled it, and he must have it.

He grabs the stem.

“Ouch!”, he cries.

“Dammit! Stupid bitch.”

He plucks the petals off, forcefully in one fist and tosses them to the ground.

Steps in them, and smears them, until the crushed petals resemble blood spatter.

“There you go, sweetie,” he says, and walks casually away.