Sandra paused in front of some bright red tulip-like flowers amongst the blades of grass, the crimson shade of their voluptuous curves catching her eye. She stooped and slowly reached out to touch one of them; it seemed to lean towards her as her fingertips drew near, its petals opening ever so slightly as if in response to her proximity.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” cautioned Charles.
“Why’s that?” she asked as she stood up straight and looked at him.
“Because they’ll take the skin right off your fingers and shave off some bone for good measure.”