The lamp wouldn't turn on.
Strange, she thought, I just changed the bulb yesterday.
Feeling her way through the dark living room, Camille passed into the dining area and saw the stairs leading to the second floor were lit with tiny tealights. Following them up, she called out, "John?" No answer. A little louder, "John, are you home?." At the top of the landing, more candles lit a path from the stairs and into the hallway. Camille started down the hall but paused when she passed the closed bathroom door. Thinking John might be inside the bomb shelter-like walls, she knocked and opened the door. Steam poured out into the hallway. The hot water was running in the tub but John wasn't in there. Traced on the mirror, were the words, "I Love You, Camille." She smiled and turned around to continue discovering this surprise.
The telephone rang shrilly.
Hurrying her steps, Camille rushed into the bedroom and grabbed the phone.
"Hello?"
"May I speak to Camille Anders, please?"
"This is she."
"Please sit down, Ms. Anders."
In the darkness, Camille could just make out a small blue jewelry box with white ribbon tied around it. It was sitting on a bed of purple rose petals in the shape of a question.
IS HE DEAD????
I've been wondering what conclusion people will draw. Thanks for your comment!
I like playing with words.
Sometimes I explore them here, sometimes at yangjanice.com.
And when I'm feeling really playful, I owl around on monkeywhimsy.com.
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