flower shop tales

peonies

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming to meet him soon, lemme just get a few flowers. Yup, okay. Bye."

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

"The kid I'm in charge of from an orphanage is at the hospital. Poor lad was beaten up pretty bad, and by his own family, can you believe that?"

"It is sad, ma'am."

"Call me Indira. And what type of flowers would you suggest for him? He's your age, I would think, almost fifteen, and I need something sober and formal looking, 'cause his future parents are coming too, and so are some cops." 

"Good to see he's moving toward a better life, Indira. And I would like to suggest these beautiful peonies. They're a type of orchid, and they stand for healing."

"I've seen them at weddings."

"Flowers are often misunderstood."

"Well, you're the florist, not me."

"Everyone's a florist. A florist of feelings."

"That's pretty deep for someone with punk-rock vibes."

"I'm a proud punk-rock. And staying so long around flowers can do that."

"Why, don't you go to school?"

"Night school. My father's ill and mom's dead, someone needs to bring home some dinner and the meds."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So, Peonies it is?"

"Yeah. And here, take one, from me. For your dad."

"Thanks, Indira."

"You're welcome..?"

"The name's Jade." 

"It's a pleasure, Jade."

"Same here, Indira."