The Surgeon and His Flower

"The surgeon was clothed in a gown that swept low past his knees. His entire body clothed in sterile gear, skin-tight gloves over his ambidextrous skillful hands.

Only his distant green-grey eyes were visible he was a quiet man that hardly had anything good to say.

He felt off to you... somehow... he was God-like if anyone could bring someone back from the dead this surgeon could.

But there is a cost to playing God."

The florist was dressed in a rich, blouse and flats school girl style. Her doll-like makeup caked her face and gave her a sense of cuteness.

Her soft warm smile gave comfort in seeking her. Talking all too much and acting dumb to please.

She didn't seem like to type to know anything or do anything but live in her little fantasy world with all the happy little trees.

She was just another person, but happier. Too happy. But you wouldn't question that, would you?

Love can make a broken man fixed and a lonely lady have company.