domingo, agosto 16, 2009

The Flower Girl

My love, I was just walking by the corner of the raining street to get to you, and I thought: I might buy her a flower with the shape of my heart. The flower girl was in the other side of the street, with a basket, I think she was crying. I never knew. I crossed the street, it was a hard task; and came near to her and said: Hello, could you please give me a flower with the shape of my heart? She didn’t answer. She just took a rose out of her basket, and gave it to me. I was confused, because I dint asked for a rose; I asked for a flower with the shape of my heart. I decently specify that I didn’t want a rose. The flower girl took the flower from her hands, put it back in her basket, turned around, and begun to walk away. I felt bad so I called her name out loudly. She turned, and I said: My love, can you give me a flower with the shape of my heart? She answered no, because my heart is the only thing she really had. I explained to her I didn’t want my heart. I just wanted a flower that made me believe that I still had one. She gave me the flower I wanted. So I asked her: How much do I owe you? She looked me in the eyes and answered: You owe me a flower with the shape of my heart.

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