Flowers

His love for flowers was one thing that he had inherited from his mother. Be it a trail of Jasmine or a colourful bunch of Dahlia, he never returned from his office empty handed.

It has been about a month since she started sitting beneath that street lamp, just around where the road curved towards his house. The dozen of jasmine trails, a few sticks of tuberose and some very long strands of marigold shone under the white light like ethereal jewels.

Though it was nowhere near the variety that the supermarket offered, he found her flowers to be more fresh and live than from anywhere else. It was as if the petals became smoother with the touch of her slender soft fingers and their fragrance imbibed her subtle beauty.

That night, shops and streets were studded with hearts and roses celebrating St. Valentines day. Walking towards her, along the pitch-black road, he noticed a small can of roses sitting right in the middle of her stock. Their red shined bright between the tuberoses and jasmines.

As he walked towards his empty home with the whole bunch of roses held tight in his hand, he was still intrigued by how to give flowers to a flowergirl.