Stop and Smell the Roses: A Short Fable

Stop was a bright red rose who prided herself on her lovely hue, though she lacked any scent.

Smell was a dull fleshy color (only her mother called her pink), but she smelled so lovely that the neighboring carnations refused to bloom.

Smell was assaulted nightly by a swarm of insatiable insects, pillaging her nectar wantonly, smearing her pollen across their pheromone swollen exoskeletons, leaving her with rent and bruised anthers.

Stop was snipped off and stuffed in a fat man’s lapel.

The Moral: Stop making fun of my Gold-Toe Cotton Fluffies.