One Rose...

Ian turned to the bush and caught a flash of red amidst the green.  The color belonged to a lonely rose that bloomed slowly. It must have been the first bloom of spring. He observed the rose closely and saw orange in the petals that blended with the red. It was stunning; he leaned in closer, and smelled wonderful. The flower incited his memory of Joanna’s wish. A single rose, Father. He smiled at the thought of her eyes lighting up at the sight of the flower. He retrieved a penknife from his left pocket and cut the rose from its stems. He smiled at the beautiful flower and twirled it in his fingers, watching the colors swirl.
   
   Suddenly, a blast of wind blew through, startling him. The rose flew out of his loose fingers and onto the grass. Ian shielded his eyes from the strong wind and the leaves that flew under its influence. The sky above turned from serene silver to a frightening black that became illuminated by flashes of lightning. Ian lowered his hand and with a yell, he fell backwards. The rose now rested in front of a pair of large black boots. Ian followed the boots up to a dark figure whose large build was shrouded in a cloak of shadows. Protruding from its head was a pair of curled horns that seemed to form a crown like shape.