She was waiting for Pierre in the garden. He’d gone to get some wine for their moonlight stargazing tonight. He was always very romantic.
The floral scents engulfed her as she walked among the many
There were many varieties. Pierre was proud of his green thumb.
Turning, she saw him running towards her.
“Mona! My precious flower. The love of my life.”
Finally, he said it.
“Mona, my flower!”
“Oh, Pierre! I love you too!”
Pierre reached her. He knelt and moved her foot aside.
“My flower!” “You were standing on my prize-winning flower.”
Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt:©Na’ama Yehuda
To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge
*****Do to alot of out of state visitors, I’ve edited an oldie but somewhat goodie from a FF 2017 story that goes well with this pix. Ejoy 😎 🌸 😍