Roses Are Red
I awoke wrapped in vines, remembering the meter-wide flower’s nauseating scent. A smaller version with petalled teeth was inches away, swelling. Agonizing minutes later, it scraped my cheek… then fell.
“They eat slowly,” said my machete-wielding co-pilot. “Ship’s this way.”
Following, I noticed a tiny bud growing from the base of his skull.
Carl,
Carl, Great writing, with just few words you have accomplished a well developed story. Excellect short story. Henry
Comment by henry — December 2, 2007 @ 9:47 pm