She was a florist and she was on her way back home. The streets were rather desert, it was in a middle of the afternoon. The trees were in flowers, it was the beginning of Spring, birds began to sing. This day was beautiful. When she arrived in front of her home, she saw something on the ground. It was a paper and a black rose. She read :
“When I waited you, a red rose, I offered you.
When I became impatient, a blue rose for you, I have given.
Now, I’m full of regrets so I bring you a black rose.
But don’t forget. After the black of Hell, I will bring the white for the death of an angel. Hurry up !
I will soon be here.”
She dropped the paper and went in her house quickly… he was here… he smiled at her, he had a white rose in his hand. She tried to leave but she was trapped…
L.M
(Merci de ne pas copier ou utiliser ce texte sans mon accord.)