Let Flowers Die
Mary Rose glanced across the empty room that was entitled only to her loneliness and the faint smell of flowers she kept. Within the abundance of fresh, lively flamingos, lilies, lavenders, sunflowers and many more was a withered bunch of dry, arid, brown roses. On the surface they seemed rousingly lifeless, but the connection they seem to make with Mary's eyes was dead alive.
It was one bright day when Mary's loneliness stayed in its grave a year ago. The fiery ball in the sky is emitting its luminescent sunshine on its surroundings, and Mary seemed to photosynthesize with her flowers alongside Phoebe. They would indulge themselves in their laughter, happiness and gently embracing arms. But the moderate warmth of the sun doesn't stay alight forever.
“I have to tell you something,