In only 6 minutes we must use the image below to inspire a story.

Son: ” Dad, we’re doing a new unit about ‘serial killers’ at school. I was surprised that Ted Bundy didn’t look at all like a ‘monster’.”

Dad: “That’s the same revelation that I had when I first saw him in the news. That observation opened my eyes to ‘how evil works’ in our world. It, more often than not, appeals to people’s ‘better natures’ and cons them into doing its bidding. Far more harm and destruction has come from people convinced that they were doing something ‘noble’ and ‘good’ than ugly barbarians. An interruption to common sense and logic comes ‘gift wrapped’ in a pretty promise that people may have an opportunity to ‘show off’ their virtuousness. Bundy was good looking and likeable, so he wasn’t easily suspected of “evil” which gave him more opportunities to…

Not looking closely, Marci grabbed the bouquet and pulled it to her chest, nearly squashing the roses. She knew it, hoped it, dreamed and even wished it—he loved her. Now here was the proof! She quickly took a couple of dollars from her purse on the sideboard and tipped the delivery man. He spied her quizzically thinking she had better take a better look at the flowers, but shrugged and left.

Marci just held the roses against her taking in the beautiful scent, of course he knew her favorites. He had been too distant lately and hopes were dwindling, but now? This gift? She almost swooned she was so enraptured.

It was only later while disassembling the bouquet, she saw the odd looking one, and being over excited earlier, promptly fainted.

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This is a picture of a rose that is past its time but it looks like a skeleton face.
Death of a Rose:

Nothing would grow here. Even those with the greenest of fingers had to admit defeat.
The soil was suitable and well irrigated, but nothing survived in this particular patch.
Three years of nothing, so when the Death Rose bloomed and died, they got the experts in.

I am going to just write and see what happens

I stab at my chest, in grave unrest, not with needles or knife but with address

a dress of grave site undressed by a dress. I am not stressed, or un-rested. I am just disconnected but I am fine. I am fine I am mine. I am connected to nothing. You cannot touch me. I am floating. I am nothing

Forever away, forever away.

Get the **** away from me

starry night of stabbing madness. I am touching everything and nothing

and I can’t spell anything right write write right

My hands don’t work. I have no clear thoughts

METH
Them

stupid addict

addict to pain

I am darkness

I am light

I am schizophrenic after thought of bite

I hate myself I hate you.

I am the moon.