eleventh of july ; rose

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we walk along the cobbled path, i have so many questions floating in my head before i finally get the courage to ask him everything i've wanted to since he first came to my garden.

"why do you take my flowers?"

i look over, to see him in thought for a moment before he eventually says,

"it's easier to just show you when we get there".

"ok but why my flowers, surely there's other gardens"

"do you see any other gardens around here?"

thats when i look behind me. every garden in the street seems to be dead, just dried up plants and trees with no flowers. my garden stands out, the only one bursting with colour and life.

"oh", i say quietly, wondering why i hadn't noticed that before. "where are we going anyway?"

"you'll see".

flowers // phan auWhere stories live. Discover now