EPTI have chanced upon this lady quite often enough, always on our way to work, I to school, and she towards her little corner in the city. We have always managed to exchange small smiles and faint, almost imperceptible, nods towards each other. Always that. And nothing more.
In the twenty odd years that I have lived in the place, I can remember the flower shop always being there; the lady, maybe only in the last five years or so. I have never entered the shop, and never needed to.
One day, my foot found me walking right through its doors. My mind was somewhere else, and I would never have chosen to enter it. But it was too late. The lady greeted me with eager eyes. I forced a warm smile and uttered "Hello" with a small wave. She must have caught my apprehension at once as her smile slowly faded. When you are late in twenties, the attraction game becomes more direct.
"Any flowers to cheer you up, sir?" She probed.
"Dandelions. White dandelions."
She returned with a bunch of them. Some in full bloom. Others just in the right amount of fluffiness. A few still shy in their sleep. I made a slight move that I have everything I need.
She left me by myself, as I carefully arranged the flowers in the basket, so that the little angel's breath are subtly present, and the leaves are not too rascally scattered about, and that the dandelions are in place to give out their pure immaculate whiteness, which I will later put beside father's coffin.
