I don't want to move again.
Every flaming year you insist I move.
I like it here, I'm comfortable and I've done well, leave me be!
Only a couple of months ago you said I was 'blooming'!
"You'll do much better over there by the greenhouse next year"
said the gardener to the rose bush.
Friday 55 Flash Fiction is brought to you by G-man (Mr Knowitall). The idea is you write a story in exactly 55 words. If you want to take part pop over and let G-man know when you've posted your 55.