The Ghost Flower

A withering crushed delicate flower needs the perfect amount of water. Too much, easily damaged, too little, her frailty cannot withstand. She becomes too soon a ghostly shadow of the flower she was meant to be. For a flower cannot ask. She is at the mercy of the watering can. Only the brightness of her beauty can draw the can to her, and save her. And as her beauty fades, she knows. The ghost is coming.