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Posted: Fri May 23, 2008 2:28 pm Post subject: That was a bit more tricky.
Allowing the breeze to whip around her body, she closed her eyes as the sun set for another day. Tomorrow was another opportunity for her to show off her figure. She trembled with fright remembering her narrow escape earlier that day when that bully nearly knocked her flying when she ran by. She’d no sooner got over that when the bully returned. She was certain she didn’t stand a chance, as those chubby fingers reached towards her, but luckily the bully’s mother forced her to move along. She shuddered again, the bully’s voice would haunt her forever, ‘But Mum, I want that rose.’
The perils that a poor rose faces! Especially one who likes to show off. Good story!
Now mine's not a story - you'll have to create your own around it.
He looked at the woman in the doorway, her figure swathed in rose silk and chiffon. A slight perfume of roses caught his senses, too. He would remember her like this, he thought. Remember her as the essence of feminine beauty and warmth. He would not remember the thorns.
Now my mind's running rampant, Merri. I have three pictures, or stories, in my head that are competing. But I won't share them; I don't want to spoil other people's interpretation.
I bet we all will have second thoughts before we pick a flower, Sue.
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