Roses
Feb 18th, 2026 by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
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Apprehension accompanied me to my car. How would they react? With sadness? Indifference?
I placed the bouquet lovingly into the trunk, holding back tears.
The intended beholders knew nothing of its history. Nor of the person who presented it to me. Roses, once of warmth and vivid pink, had crumpled to shades of aged dryness. Like his love did, when he left for another and I didn’t realize he meant it for real.
I set the vase onto my desk in the classroom, for my art students to observe, interpret and present their creativity onto canvas—of a life stilled.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
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