The four appeared on her back deck, bowl shaped and color laden.
I listen as she explains that the existing flower baskets were past their prime, and besides these ones were on sale at the store because it was nearing the end of the season. Hands on her hips, she examines the trellis and determines their placement for maximum symmetry, aesthetics.
Will they come back next year? No, it gets too cold here. In a few weeks when autumn cruises in, they will be discarded.
My heart swells in pain. I hope that when there is more cash in my wallet than I need to survive that I will find a good cause for it.
