Ashleigh Anpilova


Tim is buying Abby flowers.

An established relationship story.

Written: March 2008. Word count: 200.




He stands in the florist shop, about to buy a bouquet of black roses.


But something makes him hesitate.


He pauses and instead looks at other colors.


There's quite a choice: yellow, pink, white, orange, peach, plus many others.


But none feel right.


None feel like a good alternative.


The pink is too pale, too insipid for her.


The white is stark, beautiful; it's a good alternative, but it reminds him of death.


Odd that, black roses don't, white roses do.


Yellow, orange, peach again aren't right.


He sighs.


He returns to the black roses.


It's what she likes.


It's what he always buys her.


It's what everyone always buys her.


This time he wanted to be different.


This time he didn't want to buy her what everyone else did.


He looks around again and sees a bucket of red roses.


He smiles. They are right.


Why not take a chance?


Why not be different?


He waits until everyone else has given her their presents.


"Happy Birthday, Abby," he says, handing her the red roses.


Her smile, the way her eyes shine, the way she throws herself into his arms, says it all.


"I love you too, Tim," she says. 



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