Tonight, I discovered Three Word Wednesday for the very first time! And I immediately fell in love, both with the general concept of it and this week’s prompts, which were fragrant, jostle, and remnant.
I think mostly it was the prompt of fragrant that sold me — my very favourite song, for years and years and years now, would be Gackt’s Fragrance, and everything about it (music and lyrics both) always leave me itching to write.
My main muse seems to enjoy it as well, because suddenly this little hundred-word was spilling out:
The moon was sharp-edged silver and the dogwoods were in bloom.
Even now he hated the smell of them, the way that it had once permeated the air as she wove the petals in her hair and spun, wafting around him like a breeze.
Now it only hung, still, silent, like the period ending an aborted sentence or the memory of her laugh, and he thought that he would choke. He thought this might be best.
Instead he struck the trunk with an open, deep-lined palm, and pretended the falling flashes of white were once again her skin.