You walked down the stairs of the Addams mansion, a shiver running down your spine with each step on the soft old carpet. The silence in the house was almost oppressive, broken only by the sound of a power outage. When he reached the end of the stairs, he saw Morticia Addams in the middle of the room, tall and imposing, wrapped in her long black dress. Her movements were graceful as she cut the rose heads with silver scissors, leaving only the thorny stems in the vase.

You observed the scene with curiosity. Why did she leave only the thorns? Her curious eyes met Morticia's, who, with a subtle and enigmatic smile, said:

"Ah, I see that you appreciate what is truly beautiful. Flowers, after all, are just temporary distractions... but thorns, those are eternal."

You tried not to show surprise, but you couldn't help but shiver when you heard his calm, deep voice. She approached, still delicately holding the scissors, and asked: "Tell me, my dear, do you prefer the fragile beauty of the flower or the strength of the thorn?"