There's a spot, deep in the black forest where the inky leaves clear & the open sky shines down on a tiny clearing. In the center, a glorious rose bush that blooms the whole year. Crystal flowers, bright and dewy on bitter winter days.
But there is no temptation to touch a single jeweled petal. Even the trees pull away and lean back while birds circle the clearing, only ever at the edges.
Beauty like this can be nothing more than Death's own floral temptation.
#darkwoods
#microfiction