A Faded Rose

Faded beyond faded, the color of the roses resembled that of the collapsed mold colony in the center of the ring of tea bag tags.

The dried skin of the corpse smoothed the knobs of the protruding bone ends.

Remains of a slip of newspaper rested in her lap.

Mouse turds decorated the pile of crumbled egg shells in the sink. The corner of a crust of bread remained on a plate, perched on the edge of the countertop.

Jill surveyed the rest of the interior of the cabin. Her eyes returned to the vase, which covered the corner of the folded newspaper, the obituaries staring upward.

Jill turned, and walked out of the door, pulling it shut behind her.

“So,” Jack asked, as he re-holstered his revolver, “is it true?”

“She wasn’t wearing the rose. And there was a whole vase full. But they were pretty faded.”

This prompt, from the site “Prompts that don’t suck” immediately brought Delta to my mind.

A pile of used teabags, an old newspaper with something cut out of it, an egg salad sandwich were three of the six items listed for prompt 733.

Published by

Shona

Engineering consultant by day, science fiction writer in off hours.

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