by Emil Xaro
:: The Flower Shop ::
It's so barbaric. You shouldn't be skeptical of everything. Skepticism is very similar to ignorance.
"Good morning Charlie," I said, as we turned out onto the street. "Where are we going today?"
"Today we are going to a flower shop," he replied, from behind the wheel.
During the drive my favorite flute music echoed through the speakers. "I see. Yes, the flower shop," I said.
I closed my eyes to listen to the music while Charlie drove silently. After about a half hour, he pulled in front of the store, got out of the car and opened the door for me. I stepped out, glanced up at the midday sun, and then began walking toward the entrance of the flower shop. When I reached the front door I opened it and some bells that had been tied to it jingled.
Once inside I was surrounded by flowers. I noticed the many plants, the freshness of the air, the easiness of breathing and spent time breathing in and out, letting the air radiate through me.
A woman wearing a yellow dress walked up close to me, while watering the plants, and said, "How are you today?"
I absorbered her body with my eyes. "I am fine. How are you?" I replied, watching her mist the plants with a blue spray bottle.
"I am wonderful," she said. "Thank you for asking. Let me know if there is anything I can help you with."
"Actually, there is something," I said to her. I pulled the glasses from underneath my jacket, and showed them to her. She looked quisically at them for some some time. I held the lenses in front of her eyes so she could see the effect, and then said, "Want to try them on?"
"What do they do?" she asked.
"They help you to travel from the wreckage of your mind," I said to her, and slowly placed them over her eyes. Just as I did, she slipped to the floor, a dream cloud covering her face. She fell asleep on the black tile floor surrounded by wet flowers, her eyes flickering rapidly from behind the bevelled lenses.
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