Flash Fiction

              He looked pretty like an angel. His translucent fair skin was shining under the sunshine; his blond hair danced with the wind; his eye was wondrously clear and bright; and his teeth white and even. When he said something, like a melodious music. I stunned for a while until his snow white hand hold my hand and run forward. There was no final destination at the end of the road. Suddenly, I felt the warm from palm and looked up at him. Wait, no one was right next to me, but the warm was continually heating. “Something is growing in my hand.” I exclaimed. When I gradually opened my hand, a rose tag marked in my palm.