Day 1410: 5 Minute Freewrite: Tuesday - Prompt: dried flowers
Day 1410: 5 Minute Freewrite: Tuesday - Prompt: dried flowers
While going for a date, Logan bought a large bouquet of roses. They were beautiful, just like the girl he planned to give them to - Lori. She was the best thing that happened to him. She was clever and funny and so charming, and yes, she was beautiful. Logan couldn't even explain to himself how it happened that she agreed to go on a date with him.
He met her in the library. Passing by her station, he noticed she was reading the same textbook. He stopped by and started talking, and she responded. It turned out they took the same class. Once they discuss an assignment and the professor and the topic of studying and majors was exhausted, Logn offered her a date. He was even surprised by his bravery, for she was obviously out of his league. He didn't ask for her phone, though, but invited her in the form of a suggestion.
"What if I were to invite you to a cafe? I know the one that has great coffee and wonderful pastries? Would you meet me there?"
"Well, if what you say is true and the coffee and pastries are that good, then I would."
"Great! How's five o clock tomorrow sounds?"
"Sounds timely," she responded.
"Great! Then see you there," Logan told her the address and left, trying not to say something stupid and spoil the impression.
And now, he was waiting in front of the cafe, holding the bouquet of roses in his sweaty palms. He came ten minutes earlier, just in case.
However, ten minutes have passed, then another five, then ten, then fifteen, then half an hour. Finally, Logan understood that Lori wouldn't come. Whatever was her reason made no difference to him. "When something is too good to be true, it probably is," he thought.
He took a deep breath, his lips folded in a curvy grin, threw the bouquet
in the garbage disposal next to the store, and went back to the parking lot to his car.
When the garbage truck came next Tuesday, the flowers were already dried up, just like Logan's heartbreak by this time.
Such a sad story!
That's men's everyday prose. You knocked on one door and it, alas, turned out to be closed. =)
Do so many of us not show up? I wonder if I ever did that. Maybe. But it would have been because of anxiety, not haughtiness.
Whatever the real reason was, as far as the man is concerned - the flowers still go to the wastebasket. =)