Every Friday evening she could be seen walking down that desolate street, a bunch of roses in hand. She hands a crimson rose to anyone she sees first and then quietly walks away. I had been seeing this for two month now, from my bedroom window, unable to venture out due to my infirmities. Coincidently every Sunday the recipient of the rose had died tragically. Today was Friday and there was a knock at my door. I opened the door to see a crimson rose lying at the door. Do you want that rose?🌚 It's for you only 🌹🧟 Spread some spookiness, with the rose🌚 Must use #scrosegift to let us discover your tales 🎃
