She’s the reason I started liking artificial flowers.
"I just don’t see the reason why something should die just to make me happy for a moment."
That was what she used to say every time I bought “real” flowers for her. It was worth it, just to hear her talk about them as if they had souls somewhere where all the petals were pointing.
"Death is inevitable," I would say.
"Death is an adventure, and so is life. Don’t cut their adventure too short when life is so wonderful."
She would take the flower and say something like, “this rose had been using the bee-service to try and woo some pretty little thing - and judging from his looks, he was definitely going to get some. You just anther-blocked him. You’re a terrible wingman.”
I wish she could speak to me about that adventure again, the one everyone seems to be afraid of. But I’m sure she is still having a blast because the light still shines bright in her eyes. Farewell, my dead flower with lively eyes…