I was in the florist buying lilies. I wanted to greet my housemate at the train station with a bunch of flowers.
That was when my esophagus attack struck. I made it the two blocks to the doctor's surgery and then spent the rest of the day in the hospital.
I left the flowers with the doctor and told him to give them to his wife. I also left my shopping basket which had bread from bakery.
At the hospital I remembered my housemate loved the look of lilies, but loathed the smell.
The next day when I picked up the basket, the receptionist brought out the flowers. Maybe the doctor was afraid his wife would think he was guilty of something if he brought home flowers for no reason.
My housemate was with me. "I've learned the secret," she said. As soon they open you cut out the stamens."
We brought them home and put them in vase. They still weren't open, put as soon as they did, I amputated the stamens. It helped, but not totally. They gave off the smell of funeral home with a surplus of flowers and was much too cloying.
Thus the lilies were banished to the patio where they still look beautiful, but odorless.
Thursday, April 02, 2015
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