A blogger bard 40 sec story
‘Love is the flower you’ve got to let grow.’
The John Lennon quote had been apt to the life before us, good reader; even though it can leave a bitter taste as our subject knelt here before the rose.
It had seemed a match made in heaven.
Oh, the clichés! But it turned out to be one long series of clichés – the whirlwind romance, the marriage – but beneath it all, the knowing that he loved someone else, allowing his love to spread like a virulent weed.
She suspected this early in their short time together. And the suspicion grew, paranoia blossoming into a bouquet of deceit and lies. And then the fear.
Was she SAFE!?
Well, it turned out she wasn’t.
There were too many flowers in his garden and weeding had become a necessity …
So our subject knelt here before the rose, the grave immaculate, the memory of the bitter taste of poison she had delivered before his weeding commenced. And as she pruned away with gusto, she remembered his Rose.
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