These roses are up to something. I can sense them plotting to escape this bunker and run out onto the streets, only for them to be consumed by the great fireball in the sky. I won’t let it happen. I simply won’t let them perish in such a horrible way. We’ll be safe in this bunker. They don’t understand the danger going outside poses. See, this bunker is hundreds of metres underground, which means it should be deep enough to survive the great catastrophe above. They think I’m crazy, even though I have explained to them numerous times that my phone has a single bar of reception. With it, I managed to get one news report which said that the meteor was taking longer than expected to crash into Earth. The impact is due five minutes from the time I am writing this.
They believe that this is all about my mad love of them, not wanting them to be destroyed, but that’s not it at all. I know I could just buy seeds online and plant new roses. Well, actually that’s not really true since all online infrastructures will probably be destroyed. Anyway, the point is that I want to keep my flowers safe not because I raised them, but because they have become sentient. I can’t possibly let them—
Oh, no. Help. Help! The roses have conspired to get out and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. Rose Number 3, the hybrid tea rose, used its vines to tie me up while I was distracted making this blog post. Now the roses are making a break for the exit! Oh, please, no! Somebody save my flowers before it is too late! If you are for some reason reading this blog post before the end of the world, please rush over to my house and send my roses back down into the bunker! We’re talking about sentient roses here, people! Somebody think of the sentient roses!
– Abby