Wild Rose (Short Story)

Wild Rose (Short Story)

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WpMetadataReadComplete Mon, Nov 4, 201921m
"They call me the wild rose, but my name was Elisa Day. Why they call me it I do not know. For my name was Elisa Day" Beauty does not last forever. It fades and wrinkles like the wild, red roses that grow down by the river. He could not bear to watch her beautiful face the same fate as the rose he held in his hand.
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"Will I ever find out why you call me Rose? That's not my name." I asked him playfully. "You are my "Rose". Beautiful and gentle to look at, but touching you hurts me." He answered seriously. "Why would it hurt you to touch me?" I asked him a little scared. "Because I know that when we are alone I can do it, but as soon as we appear in the light of the world, it becomes forbidden for me. And looking at someone who is forbidden to you without being able to touch them, hurts like hell."

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