Roses
"You know, I wrote a story about these roses once."
He looked down at the bouquet in his hands. "They couldn't have been these roses," he assured her. "These are special roses."
His confidence intrigued her and she couldn't help herself but smile as she traced one of the flowers with her finger. "Special," she said, echoing his words.
"They'll never lie to you."
She laughed warmly at the notion. "Nature's too pure to lie," she told him.
"Your last ones did."
She turned her head up to look at him, silently questioning how he could comment on things from so long past.
"Go ahead," his voice was unfaltering, "ask them anything."
The words to the childhood game filled her mind but she pushed them back, unwilling to ask in his presence. "Later," she said, taking the bouquet in her hands. "For now there are more important matters at hand."
He looked down at the bouquet in his hands. "They couldn't have been these roses," he assured her. "These are special roses."
His confidence intrigued her and she couldn't help herself but smile as she traced one of the flowers with her finger. "Special," she said, echoing his words.
"They'll never lie to you."
She laughed warmly at the notion. "Nature's too pure to lie," she told him.
"Your last ones did."
She turned her head up to look at him, silently questioning how he could comment on things from so long past.
"Go ahead," his voice was unfaltering, "ask them anything."
The words to the childhood game filled her mind but she pushed them back, unwilling to ask in his presence. "Later," she said, taking the bouquet in her hands. "For now there are more important matters at hand."
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