The Touch

Part I

The sun burned the backs of Moira and Corbin's necks, relentlessly and without a single cloud in the sky to alleviate it. The air didn't help either, as it was heavy and humid from a long week of rain. Nevertheless, the people left their grove of perfectly identical suburban caves and ventured off into the city park, planning to create a day full of fun and excitement. Kids were running and tossing the ball around, people gazed at the lake's crystalline view, and some were starting up grills for the coming cookouts. Just a typical June day for these citizens with a typical reason to be outside. Although they were glad that the rain had stopped and to be out of the house, Moira and Corbin were here for reasons entirely different.

"Do you feel like daffodils today? Or maybe those dahlias? Oooh, coral dahlias are very in from what I hear," Corbin rambled on, stroking his white beard.

"What does it matter... they're all gonna end up the same. Crazy old man... why do you start all these training sessions with pointless chitchat?" Moira muttered, strolling on the path ahead of him. She stopped and kneeled at the thicket.

"Why? Why wouldn't I? We need you relaxed, the damage you're capable of is correlated to stress. Small talk eases things up. Believe in yourself! And I'm not old!! How many times have I told you that?"

"As many years you've been on this planet, geezer."

"What's that? Speak up!"

"I rest my case," sighed Moira, rising to her feet. She pointed towards a group of tall standing flowers with many petals, bundled up to make an orange ball as bright as the sun above their heads. "Let's go with these. These... er, marigolds?"

Corbin glanced over. Frowning dismissively, he said, "Those are peonies."

"Christ, Corbin! Every fuc- you know what? I think I'm ready to move on from flowers. How about I train on you. I- she raised her hand towards him with a smirk- believe in my self."

The man gulped. "Okay, okay. Jeez. It was (*cough*) a close guess. Let's just get on with it. Take off your gloves already. Try to reach a minute on the first go."

They sat down by the flower grove, appearing as just two people enjoying the day. Corbin made sure no one was looking, and then gave the sign to start. Moira ripped off her worn down bike gloves. Her hands breathed the open air, though humid, it was better than being stuffed in black leather in June. She felt her heart rate pick up, but was using the breathing exercises she learned to calm down.

"Take it easy. Just grab the stem. Whenever you're ready," Corbin encouraged.

She swallowed. Hesitantly, she surrounded her fingers around the tall, thin stem. It's like a magician's wand, she thought. Focusing on its features gave her confidence to actually wrap the tips of her fingers and grip it. After a second, Moira plucked.

"Good job," Corbin stated, wrist raised to his face. "Clock is starting now. Focus on the petals."

And Moira did. The peony was more beautiful up close. Large petals formed the base, with tinier ones as you get closer to the center. Packed together like a tissue paper art piece, with some petals streaked with white, and fuzzy yellow bits in the center, it felt as if Moira was staring into a supernova. She felt as if a star was bursting right in front of her eyes. Corbin soon informed her that she was over a minute and still going. Moira felt a tinge of pride for this, the first time she's ever had that feeling in a long while. All was well until a family went past.

"Look, Mommy!" a young girl skipped along the path. "These daisies are so beautiful!"

"Peonies," said Corbin, under his breath.