Wu You walked into the little shop carrying a bouquet of chamomile.
Lu Mingxia said, “You didn’t have to bring flowers,” but put them in a glass bottle and set it on the windowsill.
She said chamomile was easy to care for. It could bloom for days in water.
Later, when the flowers wilted, he pressed them between the pages of a book instead of throwing them away.
The summer they met, she was nineteen and he was twenty-five. In a shop scented with lavender, she found a place where she didn’t have to speak. He learned to write one person’s name in his diary.
The chamomile bloomed for seven days, then wilted.
They were together a little longer than the life of a bouquet. But only a little.
Give yourself a good review🌚