He slams the cash on the counter. “I need a bouquet with a hidden meaning.” He’s not the first to ask.
“What meaning, sir?”
“Murder.”
“Murder again!?” the shopkeeper exclaimed.
She puttered around the room and talked:
“Well, my heavens, sometimes I wish I didn’t keep promises, like when I promised to keep this shop open after my grandmother died. She passed the magic along to me, though. Don’t worry, dear. I’ll solve your problem.”
She presented him a bouquet of the deepest red roses, and he watched her spray them with something.
“Don’t sniff – only her.”
“Who?”
“Your wife.”
If you’ve enjoyed any of my work, please consider having a coffee with me.
I’m on a mission to post 1,000 100 word stories! Follow this publication to keep reading them.
Today’s prompt was: Start your story with the words: He slams the cash on the counter. “I need a bouquet with a hidden meaning.” He’s not the first to ask. “What meaning, sir?” “Murder.”
Image made by me with Gemini.
Discover more from cheney dot me
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.