She knew it’s meaning as soon as she opened the long, narrow box that had been delivered to her doorstep. Inside, lovingly wrapped in tissue paper, was a single red rose. There was no note in the box, but she knew who had sent it, and that made her both tingle with anticipation and shiver in fear.
One red rose. Love at first sight. The attraction was instantly mutual, but this was a dangerous game. She was in her first year teaching English lit and he was high school senior.
Love was forbidden, but oh the poetry she would write.
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Dale Rogerson.