Roses Are Dead, Violets Are Blue

The other night, I was walking through the hallway to my apartment, and I noticed that someone had stuck a single red rose through the door knocker of the apartment across the hall from me. “Oh, how romantic,” I thought to myself. Then my eyes adjusted to the low light, and I realized that the rose was dead. And it hadn’t been there earlier in the day, so it’s not as if someone stopped by a few days before and the person was away and the rose died before they got back. No, someone placed a dead rose there. Creepy, but at least it wasn’t on Valentine’s Day. Maybe my neighbor has a Goth admirer?