I trimmed the roses of the vines twisting to on black metal structures that were just as beautiful as the flowers. I was careful to make sure the thorns never pricked my skin. The sun beamed down on me as I walked the stone path back into my house. The strawberries grew well under the ornamental tree I had planted years before. I picked one and took a bite, letting its succulent juices soak onto my tongue. It was perfectly ripe, not sour as a handful of them still were. I went back to my roses, and grabbed a woven basket the held all of the flower heads I had cut.
I walked into my kitchen and put water into a pan. I ripped the flower head apart and let the water boil. Soon the strong scent of roses filled the room. After a few minutes, I turned off the stove, scooped out the petals, and put most of the rose water in a jar. I waited until the water was cool to pour the rest into a small spray bottle. Then I took a cold shower, washing the sweat and dirt off my hands and feet. I sprayed the rose water on my body and grabbed an ice tea from the fridge. Then I read the morning newspaper,
Child Missing on Elm Street
Sam Ambrosia has been missing for a few days now. His friends say that he was last seen ridding his bike home from school. There is sepeculation that his father, Alexander Ambrosia, has kipnapped him to spite the court’s cousdty ruling. If you have any information on this child please contact the police.
My adrenaline shot up, I knew Sam and his Father. Alexander wanted nothing to do with his son -even if Sam was biologically his. It couldn’t have been him since he was with me the time of his disappearance. I set down the newspaper and walked out to confront the person that I’d seen Sam with the day of his disappearance.
And he lived just across the street.
Prompt: Write a story about a missing child.