Fleurs

“Ms Romey, there are flowers here for you,” Benson crackled over the intercom.

“From whom?” I pressed the button on the intercom that would lead my message back to Benson.

“Well, why don’t you just come on down and see for yourself?” Benson replied

I went into the kitchen and sitting on the table was a huge bouquet of red roses. Dozens and dozens of rose. Well, maybe not dozens, but a lot. They were in my favourite colour too. I grabbed the crisp, white envelope with my name on it, Romey Tahle.

It read: Romey, please consider accompanying me to a dinner party hosted by my mother at our house this evening. It begins promptly at seven o’clock. -Lucas

-Romey