There is a single red rose, not more young and fresh but its petals are still dark red like blood. You can already see how fall is starting to wither the petals. A man is passing the rose, he's stopping his step in front of the rose.. He's charmed by its beauty and he's enjoying the scent. There are so many fresh roses around the old rose but he isn't noticing it, he is seeing only this bloodred rose and he wants to possess only this rose, that is it what he wants. The blood-red rose is feeling flattered, it's giving up protection of its thorns and allows itselfes being touched by him ... in belief in his words ... to be the only magical for him. The last drops dew are the tears of summer and are decorating the petals like pearls so nice. The man can't help breaking the rose. He's inhaling the scent and his breath is drying the pearls of the summer. The petals are bursting to dust and the man is going away ... with the dust of the leaves on his shoes. He isn't looking back and he isn't hearing her complaining ... she is asking him to take one of its petals in his pocket to remember her. The quiet crying of the blood-red rose is blowing in the wind.
photos from unknown photographer
Comments
I don't write about myself, E Suuu...
Hi, Roman, this story is based one of my first poems at that time when I started to learn English. After I had seen all my stupid mistakes on my poem, I decided to change it to a short story.
Thanks for your comment. And by the way, you are true, this happens more often as we ting also in the reality of life. Nevertheless, we never should lose trust and the belief in people.
Thanks for stopping by and to have read my contribution here on my blog.
Very sad and unfortunately bitter true of life... I like your story, Rose, but one moment is very... I don't know how to explain how it is... I just find it very emotional and risky this moment "it's giving up protection of its thorns and allows itselfes being touched by him" . She risked, she trusted him... and he didn't even took the petal with him to remember her... It is very meaningful story. Thank you for sharing!
Thank you, Mishaikh, I always appreciate your comments. And thanks also for that beautiful picture.
I do not remember the name of this fly English, but we call this Bhanwra in Urdu. It is used for the men who love beauty (especially of women), enjoy it and left them behind. Your story reminded me this metaphoric insect for the men who is unkind to nature.
Thanks I enjoy reading it.
Thanks, Evangelina, of course, the story is used metaphorically.
By the way, I wrote this story it as a poem a long time ago when I started learning English.
When I read it again later, I must laugh about my first steps. So I changed it to a short story.
Reading this made me think of, waaooow I really wonder what could one get out of reading this, if one had a Poets mind and heart, I think the analysis of this writing could have been amazing.
I was thinking, is the rose in the story used metaphorically?
Again we can say, the beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, what one person may get attracted to and find beautiful, may not be the case for other person. But though sad at the same time, somehow reminded me of the tale - The Fir Tree.
It is a beautiful, beautiful piece of writing, I do not know what words to use to owe it justice - Just excellent.
Thank you so much for sharing Rose :)
Thanks for your suggestion dear Rosemary. I did change my text.
And you are right, it indicates a woman and a man.
I know, Danny, roses never die, they just sleep until the next spring to bloom again with new power. Thanks for your encouraging words.
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