The Smell of Boredom

PHOTO PROMPT © Trish Nankeville

“Goodness,” she said, stopping on the worn grass and breathing deeply.

“What are you doing?” her boyfriend asked.

“These flowers,” she said, pointing below. He saw a plant with about a half-dozen red bulbs, each the size of a ping-pong ball. Hundreds of thin filaments, white and inch-long, protruded from each bulb. “I want to know if they smell as pretty as they look.”

“And?”

She closed her eyes. The soft tropical air was its typical pleasance. “No. They blend it with everything else.”

“In other words, they smell boring.”

She frowned. “I’d like to enjoy this last day, please.”

Friday Fictioneers is a weekly flash fiction challenge.

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