The Wicked Wednesday challenge is – Pretend you are a wedding bouquet on the day of a wedding.
Here is a flash fiction tale (less than 400 words) which includes two wedding bouquets. I enjoyed writing it. Remember it is good to challenge your mind. For me that may involve writing out of my comfort zone.
When past stares future in the eye
I cannot believe what is happening. Another wedding bouquet has just entered the room along with a young bride. They are both in bloom, radiating spring and exuberance.
But this is my territory. I’ve been displayed on the bedchamber dressing table ever since the moment mistress clasped me close to her bosom and walked down the aisle to be joined in matrimony with the man of this house. The doctor.
After the ceremony mistress had carefully placed me beside her vanity set. Then gradually the seasons turned into years whilst the air dried my petals and stiffened my stems. Each day I drooped a little more and likewise mistress became timeworn and withered. It was inevitable that the morning would come when the dawn light shone through the pane and she didn’t open her eyes. Her body looking shrivelled and spiritless.
That evening the undertakers came and took her away. I felt scared I’d be discarded too. So was thankful when the doctor let me be.
For several months the glow of the mid-afternoon sun gave me hope. Until now – when the new bride arrived.
The fresh flowers held by the young woman’s plump hand mock me with their blushing petals and budding folds. The bride stares at me in surprise. She sees a picture of the past and the horror of the future and shrieks out for the doctor.
The moment he enters the room he knows I’m the problem and nonchalantly grabs me by the stems, cursing my existence. Before we have even departed, the new bouquet is set down on the dressing table, adding colour and beauty to the surround.
Directly I am placed in the basement with some old trunks that belonged to mistress. As the doctor closes the door, darkness falls and I know I have been sentenced to endure the gloom of the cellar for all eternity.
In this story I am a pestle being used as a sex toy!
The idea behind the Bouquet was taken from quite a famous book. Do you the one?