Eternal Love and Despair

When the middle-aged florist in charge of the store not far from the cemetery saw us, she asked, “Do you need a bouquet of white chrysanthemum?”

Smiling, I shook my head and brought Autumn into the store. “Is it fine for us to pick the flowers?”

The florist was stupefied for a short while before she nodded in return and asserted, “Of course!”

Clara once told me she was never a fan of chrysanthemum