Forget Me Not

1. The Girl in the Bright Green Sundress

Forget Me Nots are my favorite type of flower through the sole fact of how desperate its name is. It reminds me of every human I meet that tries so hard to make their mark on this pathetic world so an equally pathetic person like me will remember them. Reminds me of my lab partner Hunter,  'Forget Me Not Miriam from Chemistry class, for I can memorize the periodic table better than you'. Well, good job. I'll remember you as a bitch for the rest of my eternity.

"How much for a bouquet of Forget Me Nots?" the young lady in the bright green sundress asks me from across the counter.

I look up from my Forbes magazine and give her a once over. "Why?"

"Well," she says turning her slightly large nose up at me, "is it really your place to ask?"

I cough to hide my smirk as I get out of the stool I was perched in. It's always something especially pitiful when customers get so defensive if you simply ask, 'why?' Usually the spouse is cheating on them and they're trying win them back. Once a lady had bought Forget Me Nots and then a few days later she was buying daffodils. A few more days passed the town found out that she'd poisoned her disloyal husband with - lo and behold - daffodil bulb tea. I unknowingly assisted in murder. Best day of my life.

"Okay ma'am, they'll be twenty-nine fifty and ready for pickup by tomorrow." I say returning to my seat after checking our stock calendar. "Sign this please."

The lady's lips pursue probably still sore over my early comment, she squints at my badge as she picks up the pen. "Thank you, Miriam." 

I nod, a small smile forming on my lips. It's not often a customer thanks me for checking a calendar, especially after I've offended them. Her signature is flawless as she scrawls out 'Gemma H. Oserfield' onto the order slip with nails painted a blue shade similar to that of Forget Me Nots. I cock my head at her.

"Why are you buying Forget Me Nots?"I ask then add, "Not sarcastically this time."

She smiles and slides the slip back towards me. "Because when flowers die you replace them." I'm taken aback by the sudden tears that glint in her eyes.

"Most people don't mourn flowers dying," I say cautiously, placing the slip in the basket. She seems a bit crazy but this is the most interesting conversation I've had in a while so I decide to humor her until she sounds more threatening than sensitive.

Her eyes are brown, only a little darker than her skin. "I mourn the death of all living things."

"So how do you cope with this world then?" I ask a bit harshly. Anyone this sensitive would've ended it a long time ago.

Gemma leans against the counter, hands propping up her angular face, and her grin at odd with the tears streaked down her cheeks. "Because in turn I celebrate the death of all things and accept it. Far too many humans lose empathy when they forget to mourn. Far too many humans lose hope when they simply mourn."

I stare at her. "Death and life are equally meaningless to the universe. We are nothing."

The look in her eyes are marvelous and intelligent as she says, "And yet, in our own way, we are everything."

She glances down at her watch, "Farewell."

And then she leaves as quick as she came. That girl in the bright green sundress with such a bright view of the world who ordered Forget Me Nots like a basic bitch. Even though her views were far too optimistic she had something she believed in.

We are nothing.

We are everything.