The flowers died on Monday. | Story Snacks 001

The flowers died on Monday.

It was Wednesday. I didn’t know what else to do but stand there. It felt like it was all gone. All of it. And what was it all for?

Flowers die—it’s normal. But why do we still weep when they do? Like, didn’t you know this was coming?

I couldn’t help but laugh a bit at myself.

It didn’t last long, though. The corners of my mouth quickly formed an indescribable but definitely downward direction shape.

I continued to stand there, stuck both mentally and physically. I couldn’t move because I couldn’t decide whether or not to throw them out. What was the point in staring at dead flowers?

I reached my hand out and before I could even touch a petal, it fell off. It was as if it knew that I was trying to save it, to breathe some life into it, somehow. But yes, the flowers were dead dead.

“Cut, cut.” The director’s voice made its way from the dark off set set-up to me. The photographer snapped one more photo and then looked back for further instructions.

“I like it the emotion, but now there aren’t enough petals on the flowers. We need some fresher ones.”He waved his hand and an assistant speed-walked in with a trash can, grabbed the flowers with her right hand and tossed them into trash can held by her left. Then she swept the fallen petals into the trash can.

After a few minutes, she returned to the set with some new flowers. “Would these work? The flowers died on Tuesday.”