A petal drifted past lip locked lovers, across food smothered kitchen counter tops, through the unwashed hair of the homeless woman on the street corner, onto the shoes of a frequent athlete, toward the warmth of a just sat on park bench, and eventually into the hands of a handsome young man who decided to fasten it onto the pages of an aged notebook. It's queer how the rather exciting being of a small petal could be so brutally concealed, and not a single person would ever notice.

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