LILAC
The early morning light filters through the sheer curtains of my bedroom, casting soft shadows on the walls. The sun is just beginning to rise, painting the world outside in hues of pink and gold. I stretch beneath the warm covers, the p r o m i s e of a new day tingling in my fingertips. Today, like every other day, I have my little flower shop, Heavenly Florets, to look forward to.
I slide out of bed, feeling the cool hardwood floor beneath my feet.
After a quick shower, I slip into a comfortable yet stylish pale lavender dress with a hint of green shades that flows softly around my knees. It's the perfect color for today, reflecting the spirit of the flowers and trees I love. I pull my hair into a loose bun, allowing a few strands to cascade down the sides of my face. A final glance in the mirror reveals a smile I can't help but wear.
"Time to make magic," I whisper to myself, a ritual I've adopted over the years.
I step into the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee beckons me. I pour a steaming cup, letting the warmth f i l l me as I lean against the counter. Outside, the birds chirp cheerfully, a gentle reminder of the life that buzzes around me. After finishing my coffee, I grab my keys and a wicker basket for the morning's deliveries.
The walk to the shop is invigorating, with the crisp morning air filling my lungs. As I approach Heavenly Florets, I feel a familiar sense of comfort wash over me. The shop, painted a cheerful cream color with bright green shutters, stands like a beacon in the quaint little town.
I unlock the door and step inside, inhaling the sweet, e a r t h y scent of the fresh flowers that greet me.
The shop is filled with an array of colors—vivid reds, sunny yellows, and deep purples—all harmonizing into a beautiful bouquet of life. I place my basket down and start arranging the flowers from the previous day's deliveries, adding them to the displays with care.
As the sun climbs higher in the sky, the first customer of the day arrives. Mr. Marcielle, my favorite regular, shuffles in, his usual grin lighting up his weathered face.
"Good morning, Lilac! I hope you have something special for me today," he says, his voice rich with humor.
"Always, Mr. Marcielle! What can I do for you?" I reply, smiling back as I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
He chuckles, a sound that feels like sunshine. "Well, my dear, I need your expert advice. What flowers would be the best for my grumpy old wife? You know how she can be!"
YOU ARE READING
Skies & Florets
RomanceShe has built a quiet life in her small-town flower shop, surrounded by the blooms she's always loved. But as the years pass, the memory of her childhood friend-the boy who once promised to be by her side-lingers like a ghost among the petals. Now g...
