“Dear Ms. Son

 

With sincere regret I must report that the Committee of Administrations has completed it’s

selection of the class entering in September 2018 and has not been able to offer you a place.”

 

Wendy took her eyes off the thin sheet of paper, wondering absentmindedly how something so easily destroyed could make her hurt this much. She picked up the half-opened letter and set it down on a stack along with her undergraduate notes and other rejection letter from the year prior.

Her eyes were drawn to the diploma that she had earned and unconsciously wiped the tears that had unconsciously fallen from her eyes. She exhaled heavily and straightened out the fabric of her blazer and exited the apartment complex.

Feet moved without a mind down the street, the sun just made Wendy feel more and more numb. She glanced up to pull her sunglasses down when she spotted a simplistic building. The windows were lined with wide leaf ferns and tiny swirls of miniscule flowers. She couldn’t help but feel drawn to it, her mind flashing back to an article headline stating ‘Why Indoor Plants Make You Feel Better.’

She pushed open the glass door and the little bell rang quietly in hello. She padded over to the flower racks, they were neatly lined up in glass pottery that looked homemade. Unlike the trashy chain flower shops that were plastic and dirty, these looked like each flower and plant had gotten special care and attention. It made Wendy’s lips tug into a smile.

A voice drew her out of her thoughts, “Hello, welcome to ReVel Flower Shop, looking for anything specific?” The tone was polite but sounded like it had been rehearsed to perfection, Wendy, a fellow retail worker, still managed to fall into the trap. She looked up about an inch to see the eyes that the other had, they were soft and gentle with a quiet honesty.

“Uh… Not really. I’m.” Wendy cleared , trying to regain her composure. “I’m a psychology student and I read somewhere that flowers help with mental health? I’m here to prove that theory.” She said, regaining confidence with a wink.

The worker giggled, placing a hand to cover her smile though Wendy could see the way their eyes crinkled in delight. They exhaled through their nose before saying, “Well, I guess you’ll have to include me in your lab report. Come, I think I have a flower for you.” The last sentance couldn’t help but make Wendy’s eartips flare up in red.

She followed the epitome of perfection to a stack of roses before the other picked up a silver potted plant. “Rosebuds. They’ll bloom but… I think you’ll like them.” They siad with an honest smile.

Wendy grinned and took the rosebuds from the worker, glancing up at them. “Thank you!”

The two walked over to the counter and made the transaction, a brief explanation on care instructions was explained and Wendy watched as the stranger wrote gingerly on the tag attached to the pot. Wendy smiled, “I’m Wendy by the way. I think I’ll be back.”

“I’m Irene. Hey-- Don’t kill them! They mean innocent love.” Somehow the way Wendy’s cheeks went red at the explanation of the flowers made her think that maybe this meant something.

Beneath the tag with care instructions gingerly written out was a phone number haphazardly scribbled in with a name , Irene. That was convincing enough, if flowers didn’t help mental health maybe this worker would.