Roses

No. 36/100 flash fiction stories

My office smells like roses.

The moment you open the door, the smell hits you. It’s as if the crimson flowers are scattered all throughout the room. But no – a single vase sits on my desk, a dozen red roses intermingled with baby’s breath. Right now they’re all opening up to the sunlight streaming through the window, exposing their full beauty.

Somehow, my nose never gets used to the smell. When I take in a long breath as I face a difficult challenge during the work day, their scent overwhelms me.

And I smile.

. . .

Since my blog queue is set two weeks in advance, I wrote this during Valentine’s Day week after my husband unexpectedly brought home roses. They brightened up my office like nothing else.

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Photo by Gian D. on Unsplash

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