Beware of talking flowers, especially around midnight.
“Come closer,” whispered the flower.
He looked around, then said, “Hello? Is anyone there?”
That, of course, should have been his first clue that something was not quite right. I mean that’s what they say in horror films, right?
“Over here,” said the flower, softly. “Come closer.”
He looked at the flower and shook his head. “Flowers do NOT talk. At least they don’t talk to humans. Maybe they talk to each other, but not to people.”
“I’m not like the other flowers,” said the rose. “Look at my color. I’m gorgeous, my petals are like the softest velvet.”
He had to agree. The flower was beautiful.
They chatted for a while and then he reached out to touch her.
“Would you like me to tell you a story?” asked the rose, sweetly. “It’s quite late, near midnight, I think. That’s the perfect time for a story.”
“Sure,” he said…
View original post 150 more words