Break Through
“Not a bouquet of them, thank god. I’d never understood why people give dead flowers to one another as a sign of affection. The whole idea made me sad. No, Carter gave me pictures of flowers. Not the dying ones from his yard, but gorgeous, bright photographs of thriving flowers.
“They’re the most beautiful flowers in Red Blossom,” he said proudly as I leafed through the stack while we sat in the middle of the back lawn. Today I had put down a blanket. It was purple with pink and green flower...s lining the edges. I’d brought it out here from my room. It was one of the first blankets my mom bought me after I came back home. For that reason alone I loved it. It signified a new beginning. It signified freedom.
I paused at one of the photographs, my fingers resting on it. “This one is mine.”
He shrugged, looking rather proud of himself. “Like I said, prettiest flowers in town.”
I grinned, continuing to leaf through them.MoreLess
“They’re the most beautiful flowers in Red Blossom,” he said proudly as I leafed through the stack while we sat in the middle of the back lawn. Today I had put down a blanket. It was purple with pink and green flower...s lining the edges. I’d brought it out here from my room. It was one of the first blankets my mom bought me after I came back home. For that reason alone I loved it. It signified a new beginning. It signified freedom.
I paused at one of the photographs, my fingers resting on it. “This one is mine.”
He shrugged, looking rather proud of himself. “Like I said, prettiest flowers in town.”
I grinned, continuing to leaf through them.MoreLess
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