“Yes,” I said, looking back up as the sun settled into the sky, the red blooming from it like flower petals. “It has already begun.”

“I had gotten so used to the taste of rain that I forgot what the sun tasted like. Bittersweet.”

“A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning, as if supported by the rays of the sun, a bird settled on the fire escape, joy in the task of coffee, joy accompanied me as I walked.”

“Roses! I swear you men have all your romance from the same worn book. Flowers are a good thing, a sweet thing to give a lady. But it is always roses, always red, and always perfect hothouse blooms when they can come by them.”

“Auri," I asked slowly, "are you joking with me?"She looked up and grinned. "Yes I am," she said proudly. "Isn't it wonderful?”

“My daughter and two sons are the flowers in my heart and garden.”

“Once upon a time there was an anachronic clock. When it struck the hours they would roll through the living room then transform themselves into beautiful silver apples hanging from the ceiling. Every time a new hour rolled through the room the others already silver would smile hanging from the ceiling so that in that room there was always a kind of gleaming twinkle and when the clock had made a complete circuit of the dial the hours already silver would let themselves fall and then the sound would be great pearls of silver laughter.”