Tell A Tale — Gothic Fiction
Roses By Adam Spaven
Thud, thud. Two large bangs hitting the door. It was not that late in the morning, proving this as she jumps up, all confused. Her eyes just lit up. Checking the clock, it was 9.30 am. A day to embrace in a lye in, away from the rest of the world. To engage in peace and tranquillity knowing she did not have to rush around to gather herself to make it to work. The bangs continued. She threw her dressing gown on hopefully to silence the god forsaken noise.
“Wait a bloody minute, I coming.” She yells out engaging to the demon that dares wake her that she is on route.
Twisting the key, pulling off the chain attached to the door for safety reasons or pure paranoia.
“WHAT?” she yells at a scrawny excuse of a man, dressed all in grey.
“Are you miss, and is this”
“Yes, I am and it is”
“Good, sign here.” A package to her, almost instantly threw out an electrical device with all the details he had asked of her. Held up by her left arm, she struggles to look past its height however with her right hand she signs for the package.
“Thank you. Have a nice day.” His job is done.
A bouquet of flowers has just been delivered to her. Someone knew her schedule because it is some thing she would not just go to the shop and buy.
A gorgeous arrangement made up of twelve red roses. Centred with four bright white roses which sat beside four red thus bringing to light just how perfect each rose was. The finally of the flowers was out shone by one single dark purple rose, sitting on its own right in the middle yet it held all the attention. The whole arrangement was made up of roses. Instead of a bow to finalize the bouquet, two white doves. One flying in one direction towards left the other away in the opposite direction.
A smile accompanied with vertical cheek bones. Just amazing, it was definitely worth the interruption. Composure held admiring a Surprise of her favourite flower. Yet she had never told anyone this.
This leaked information was a heartfelt gesture that was clear. It was not valentines or a birthday. She was not involved with anyone. No man had any interest in her.
It did not matter, her day had been completed.
A card poked out. Maybe this held the key as to the admirer.
‘Here you stand growing more beautiful. Aphrodite the goddess of beauty, we will be together soon.’
After reading the card she frowned, re read it just to make sure it sank in. A love note sent to Aphrodite using her as a vessel. There is enough bad in her life, the last thing she needs is some loon believing he is a myth. She tore the card into as many pieces imaging confetti
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