rose leaf - you may hope

As the man and woman climbed the old stone stair, the tangled rose vines on the wall beside them budded, opened, withered, and fell. By the time they had reached the top, there was nothing except dried brown leaves and twisted thorns.

"I told you," the blond man said, eyes cold as gunmetal. "Time's out of joint. We'll have to jettison this place."

The blonde woman shook her head, and plucked a leaf. "There's still a chance."

"You hope."

Her eyes deep blue, she offered him the leaf. In her hand, it freshened and grew green again. "I always do."

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