A Bouquet of Flowers Had Died
Want to hear the audio version of this selection? Click here . A Bouquet of Flowers Had Died It had been three weeks since Sean had slammed her apartment door shut. Hard. Hard enough that the landlord had no doubt heard the ruckus and considered checking in on the matter at hand - if not for Iris’ sake, then for the abused doorframe. Fortunately, the metal frame of the door had held up fine. No more than the usual menagerie of scratches and dents. A new coat of paint and that door would look as good as new. The same couldn’t be said of Iris. It had been three weeks. Nearly a months worth of salty tears, chunky monkey (low fat) ice cream bin(s), and wine - mostly wine. Iris’ recycling bin overflowed like a green volcano, slowly oozing out loud, clanking glass that reeked of grapes. It had gotten to the point that the overly enthusiastic clerk at the local grocer toyed around with the idea of selling the cheap bottles of merlot by the crate. Or even a by-the-bottle rewards program....
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