Last night I dreamed of roses.
The scent was overpowering. It drew me once more to the garden. Bewildered, I stared at lush red petals. Forsaken by their caretaker, I thought they had perished.
Then I saw her. Wearing that silly straw hat, she was pruning the weakest stems. She looked my way and recognition bloomed in her eyes. Her familiar smile reminded me of seasons come and gone too quickly.
I started toward her eagerly but her smile was already fading. Confusion wrinkled her brow. Turning, she resumed her pruning.
I awoke, face wet, still smelling roses.
Word count: 98
Photo Credit: Elaine Murphy
Author’s Note: This story is written in response to the ‘100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups’ (found here). The challenge was to write a story of 100 words or less using the prompt ‘the scent was overpowering.‘