Write
The man stared at the flower bed. Scarlet petals bursting forth from the centre; it truly was a sight to behold. Gently he knelt, examined the soil, and with the grace of an albatross in flight, he plucked a petal from the rose. His chest swelled with pride. He had done it. He would finally save his wife.
But a vague thought stroked the back of his mind... this was his chance. The human dream. He could achieve it.
Pale as a ghost in the summertime, a woman sat in the garden. She admired the roses. It would be her last time. She gingerly looked up at the sky. Tears flowed down her cheeks into the earth. Why had he abandonded her? In her time of need, why? She looked back at the roses. Sweet... sweet... roses.
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