PHOTO PROMPT Β© Marie Gail Stratford
Looking at the bare stem in Mary’s hand, her five year old sister asked “Where are the petals, Mary.”
“Last night there was a heavy storm, I think the wind blew them away.”
Staring at the bare stem she went back to last night, just before the storm when she had plucked the flower and taken it to her room, all night, she had removed each petal and murmured, “He loves me” , “he loves me not”, alternately to see where the petals would end, so that she could judge whether William spoke to her because he really wanted the pencil or …….
The above post in response to:
I think William has a case full of perfectly sharpened pencils and actually wants Mary. The agonies of love!
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Quite possible…. π
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Aw, cute. I hope William was just using the pencil as an excuse to speak to her.
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Maybeπ
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Sweet!
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Thank you π
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Dear 17,
Welcome to Friday Fictioneers. Sweet story. Hope it’s love and not pencils. π
Shalom,
Rochelle
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I also hope it’s love π
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Awwe, so sweet.
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Thank you π
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Such a cute story!
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Thanks
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OH, the pain of young love! I remember π
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Yeahπ
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Love this! Funny how it all comes back to love. π
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Thanks!!!!!π
And yes it all comes back to love, young love, with lots of hope.
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Aww, that’s nice! Young love can be such a delightful feeling!
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Yes that’s true…. Especially when it is the first time you are experiencing those feelings…..
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Yes, the feelings become rather more turbulent later! But I still remember my first love, and that was over half a century ago; he was a lovely boy…
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We all remember our first love even if we forget all the guys that come after that.π€
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