Short dialogue inspired by a hipster tumblr post and a heart-breaking quote from this week’s CBS Elementary: “I took the passing of a dear friend and twisted it into an indulgence in narcissism“
“Self-assured, to a fault,” she quips, correcting me. “Sometimes.”
The trees speeding outside the window break up the tangerine sunlight. It illuminates her face, her eyelids dusted with sparkly pink powder. Unblinking, she stares back at nature’s quick shutter.
“I have had the tendency,” she declares, her voice quietly rejoining the dull hum of the bus, “to assume that I am the only flower in a person’s garden. Does that make sense to you?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Having other ‘flowers’ around isn’t a bad thing, though. Competition really bothers you that much?”
“The problem isn’t that there are other flowers. The problem is that I’m just a blade of grass in that garden. And I was too small to even realize it.”
She didn’t look particularly sad, only solemn, as she focused on the scenery outside. Still, I attempted to be a comfort. “Everyone needs to start somewhere. You could be a blade of grass in growth.”
“Thanks, that’s nice of you. But grass is too short-lived.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Silence. “And what about your garden?” I venture.
“Mine? Hmmm.” She mulls it over for a moment. “I have many flowers in my garden. Too many. It’s because I never let any of them die.” Finally, she looks at me, and this time she is the one who apologizes.
“Because I’m not sure if there’s room for anything new to grow,” she answers with regret.