They were limp but not yet wilted. Had I been five minutes earlier I might have caught the scene.
It struck me suddenly that they might still be present.
I glanced around with new interest. There: those two, canoodling in the lounge? Or the couple in the coffee shop, huddled over their respective smartphones, ignoring each other? No, neither pair was right, not for the bouquet’s colour: not for pink, for sweet thoughts, gentle emotions, hope, happiness, affection; for innocent love not yet erupted.
The flowers were carefully chosen. How did they get there? How did it come to this?
Photo by Ron Thompson at Barcelona Airport, August 2013
See how it began here. See what happens next here.