I should have known it was a bad idea; and, as with all bad ideas, I embraced the chance to immerse myself fully.
Your ghost walked beside me, looking at flats of purple and yellow... the selection was minimal, and now I know why we would visit more than one store. I have to fight to not buy flowers that you would buy, to not lay them out as you would. It is hard; your sense of aesthetics is subtly pleasing, somehow brilliant in a low volume.
Damn your art, and damn you.
