flower shop tales

carnations

"Good morning, ma'am, how may I help you?"

"I need flowers."

"For...?"

"My daughter."

"Oh! She must be one lucky girl."

"She was."

"Oh."

"Yeah. It's...she was- she was so young."

"Life is life. It moves on."

"But why her? What's she ever do?"

"It's said only the good die young."

"You just quoted Billy Joel."

"I did."

"Well, at least you made me smile. Back to the flowers. I need some...for her funeral."

"When is it? I could try and arrange a nice bouquet."

"It's in half an hour, and I'd rather take one flower because she always found beauty in simplicity, you know? But I don't know which; it's like I've been stalling this for as long as I could. But now, now it's time...time to accept that she's-that she's..."

"Dead."

"Yes, dead. Thank you."

"You're welcome, ma'am. And I would personally recommend carnations. White ones."

"Why?"

"They represent remembrance."

"Oh. Well, I guess carnations it is."

"Definitely. Here you go."

"She would've liked them, they're beautiful."

"Just like she was, I'm sure."

"Yeah. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not saying 'I'm sorry.' "

"I'm sure you've had enough of that already."

"Yeah, I have. She would've liked you, Carrie would've."

"I'm glad, ma'am."

"Mhm, well, anyway, I should uh, get going...how much do I owe you?"

"You owe me a white carnation on your daughter's grave, ma'am, nothing else."