The Black Rose

flash fiction

Every year, on this day, one black rose was delivered. It brought the pain back, but it also was meant as an encouragement for life to go on. Misha had known that the separation would be final at the time – he was dying, and she had to move forward. He did not want her touched by the things that had brought him down. So this day, each year, she accepted the black rose, and wrote in her journal. The beauty of this rose touched her, and always would. They were part of each other, and this would never change.

(c) September 2015 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction prohibited without the written permission of the author.

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