Home > Uncategorized > I love the flowers

I love the flowers

I love the flowers.  Both bunches. Here’s the story:

It’s Valentine’s day and I approach it with the requisite suspicion and a fairly respectable dose of disregard. Consumerism and a gullible public blah blah blah. We shouldn’t need a day to do this blah blah blah. Regardless I can’t help remembering my first real Valentine which happened to be with the man I love and currently live with.  The memory brings a smile to my face and I feel suitably silly.

After a Valentine’s Day kiss and hug (that should suffice as a gift, right?) I enter my day. The office is agog with the necessary roses and some people are adorned in red, with badges on their bosoms and large heart hair clips. I admit to wandering downstairs to see if I can find an appropriate gift – no Walter Mosleys at the second hand bookshop. Damn.

Jostling in the lift with the Valentine celebrants I of course remember this awful day in high school when all the Valentine’s Day messages get read out over the lunch break and of all 800 students not one thought to send me some note of endearment – pretty tough fact to swallow for a 15-year-old. Anyway luckily I had kind parents who always had a bunch of flowers waiting for me when I returned from school!

Well I got in from work and the flat was empty. But poking out of my bright orange flower jug are three slender roses and a snatch of twines. I smiled. My boyfriend is the last person I expect romance from but then again isn’t that what romance is. Not the guy who has all the lines and is smooth but the small lovely suprises.

Fussing over my flowers I wondered where he’d got to. Looked like he’d left

in a rush. The puzzle of his absence grew until about fifteen minutes had passed and the front door opened. There he was with a clutch of pink blossoms which he handed to me. ‘I didn’t think the others looked right,’ he said as explanation.

 

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