Seventh Petal

Oh the places we go. I have really been enjoying the random title generator. It seems to give me some great titles for the stories I find for these Friday posts.

Now I could go into a long monologue about this story, but why would I start doing stuff like that now.

Seventh Petal

Seventh Petal

flickr creative commons via Brenda Clarke
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“He love me. He loves me not.” Another petal hit the floor. A small pile of flower petals collected at her feet as she picked the last rose from the vase.

“Why do you continue to torture yourself like this?” Anne asked.

“He loves me. He loves me not.” Beth smacked the rose against the table. “Because he is a bastard and ripping apart a few flowers makes me feel better.”

Beth shook her head and walked into the small sink area near the bathroom. “I thought maybe the room charged to his credit card would do that.”

“He loves me not.” She pulled the last petal and threw it to the floor. “The room is just the icing on the cake. Just wait till we max out the card on room service.”

“That’s a fantastic idea. What should we order first?”

“Why don’t you pick something. I’m about to order a massage.”

She picked up the phone and dialed the front desk. “Hello? Yes, hello, I would like to set up a spa day please,” she said. “Sorry, room 312. Yes, that will be perfect.”

She tapped the disconnect but held the phone to her ear. “Room service? Yes, I would like a bottle of champagne and caviar brought up to room 312.” She held the phone away with her hand over the mouth piece. “Did you decide on something else?”

“You’re going to hate me for this one,” Anne said. “But all I really want right now is a burger and fries.”

Beth uncovered the receiver. “Add a burger and fries to that as well as a fruit and cheese plate. Does that come with crackers?” She nodded into the phone. “Oh breads and crackers then? That sounds perfect. Thank you.”

She set the phone back on the cradle. “They said it will take about twenty minutes. My spa trip isn’t until two.” She went to the closet and sorted through the clothes hanging on the bar.

“We should hit the club later tonight,” Anne said. “The best way to get over a man is to find a new one.” She giggled at her own joke.

“This is why you have never been able to keep a decent relationship. You are so ready to move on.” She held two different summer dresses out to compare them then placed them against her body. “Which do you think I should go with?”

“Go with the blue, the blue makes your eyes pop.”

“Oh you’re probably right.” Beth washed her hands in the sink then stripped out of the hotel robe. “I kind of hate getting dressed this has been such a pleasant morning. Don’t you think?”

She stepped back into the main part of the room. Clothes littered the floor, several plates with half eaten food lay on the small table. “You really should consider cleaning up while I’m gone,” she said. “This place is a mess.”

The blood soaked into the sheets and the mattress. The large man crushed the woman beneath him when the ice pick slammed into his ear. She struggled but it wasn’t enough to save her from the knife that slashed her arms and throat.

Anne looked back at her from the mirror across from the bed. “You really should go before you miss you’re massage appointment.”

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