She was in her best attire. Her scent was irresistible.
Eagerly, her eyes scanned the distance, waiting for him.
His kiss. She'd waited all Spring.
Closer and closer he came and flitted right past her, settling on another, two rows away.
Her heart of petals burst as the butterfly flew away, having drunk his fill.
This is written in response to the theme prompt ' That tender kiss'
for the week of 55-word posts over at
Labels: 55-words, Fiction, Marathon bloggers