the cozy flower shop
It was 5 p.m., and the flower shop was just about to close for the day when a girl came running toward it. Mysha was the only one who noticed her. Their eyes met. The girl entered the shop, breathless.
“I’m so sorry,” she said between breaths. “Can I still buy some flowers?”
“Of course! You’re right on time,” Mysha replied with a smile. “And don’t apologise — we don’t get many customers yet, especially beautiful girls like you.” She winked without thinking.
That put a smile on the girl’s face, making her look even prettier. She had a pink hibiscus tucked behind her ear, just under her silky hair, and wore a flowy purple dress.
“Seems like you really like your flowers,” Mysha said with another smile. “I love the hibiscus — do you want more of those?”
“They’re actually for my boyfriend! It’s our anniversary.”
“Oh…” Mysha sighed. Deep down, she hoped that one day she too would have the experiences people her age normally had. No luck just yet.
“What kind does he like?”
“Mmmm… I don’t really know.”
“Okay, I’ll pick the most special ones just for him!” Mysha said, selecting tulips, orchids, and lavenders, then arranging them into a bouquet.
“These are so beautiful — I hope he likes them!”
“Yes, I hope he does! It’s the thought that matters. You’re so lucky to have him.”
“How much do I owe you?” the girl asked, realising she had almost forgotten to pay.
“Don’t worry, it’s on the house.”
“What do you mean? You can’t give me these for free!”
“I can — and I am! You’re doing this for your boyfriend. I want to make it easy and special for you. If anything… can I get your number? You’re really pretty and I want to be your friend.” Mysha paused, suddenly realising what in the world she was saying.
“You’re so sweet! Of course, I’ll be your friend. Thank you so much for the flowers — I love you!” The girl wrote down her number on Mysha’s notepad.
Mysha felt herself blush. Why would someone so beautiful want to be my friend? She spun around as the girl was about to leave, and then she realised she had forgotten to ask her name. Was it too late?
After a minute of silently beating herself for being so stupid, someone came in. No, not just anyone, but her!
“Uh, sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” Mysha said with a grimace.
“I know, right? I was cringing at myself for the same thing,” the girl replied with a small laugh.
“I’m Mysha.”
“I’m Shrinika!”
Mysha giggled for no reason except that she finally got to know her name.
“Okay, see you, Mysha!”
“Yeah, you too, Shrinika!”
“Thank you for the flowers — I really appreciate it.”
“I hope he loves them!”
They giggled, and then Shrinika left the shop.
Mysha packed away her things, daydreaming about how one day she would fall in love too.
"Shrinika", she whispered as she brushed her hand on the paper where her number was written.
