Roses and Death

Day 220

Wind whipped rose petals into her face. Squinting against the onslaughter, she spied the source of the roses: a giant wall of briars blocked her path. Long glistening thorns gleamed white under the moonlight, roses brushed in silver. As she came closer, the sweet perfume assailed her nose. Sweet as roses and stronger than any she had ever smelled. Wrinkling her nose, she moved to the left, away from the drying blood on one of the thorns.


Written: 27 May 2016

Words: 77

Inspired: a song → fairy tale

x-posted

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