While I sat writing at my desk, a delicate hand silhouetted by the morning sun briefly displayed this flower. I lifted the shade, and long strands of white-blond hair whipped past the edge of the sill.
I raced outside and all around the house, but found no sign of the woman. Only her flower remained, a candy-pink rose with a note tied to its stem that said: Make wise use of this enchanted rose.
Puzzled, I took the rose inside, and its sweet fragrance tickled my nose. What wise use should I make of this gift? I could make a fine tea of its petals to drink before bedtime so that my dreams might be filled with prophecies. Or I could scatter the soft petals in my garden to attract fairies. Or take the blessed petals into my hand and concentrate on a wish, then scatter them to the four winds, allowing the breeze to carry them to their destination. Or simply inhale the purity and sweetness.