——- FLOWERS, Wright had seen PLENTY of flowers in his time. He looked over bushes and bushes of them from his post at the bridge between the Garden District and The Village. DREADFUL business that was, always seemed to make his nose itch when he got too close. The consensus being, Wright HATED flowers.
AND YET, here he stood, outside the shop window of a small flower shop. He often came here, looked through the window but NEVER had he gone in, never had the guts too. He just always came HOPING for a glance at the girl who owned this shop. Yes, it was odd and YES he shouldn’t do it, but it’s not like he’d ever have the nerve to actually talk to her.
His body felt weird, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the SCENT of the roses fogging his mind, or the POUNDING in his chest that was making him anxious. He felt like he was GLUED to the cobblestones, and then all too suddenly, he was opening the door. A wafting of FLORAL AROMAS hitting him harder than he could have anticipated, but still he SOLDIERED ON.
It then occurred to him, HE DIDN’T HAVE A PLAN. Wright didn’t know the FIRST THING about flowers, never bothered to learn and now he was here and he didn’t even know what he was going to SAY.
