She was handed the beautiful bouquet and received it gladly – it was just what she wanted, what she had waited for. Flowers of many colours and yet how they complemented each other – no two the same. A peachy scented rose, the daffodil heralding spring, the unremarkable forget-me-not and a gerbera pushing itself upwards with its vivid hue and confidence. She breathed in the scent and delighted in what she had been given. One flower stood out: the colour was unusual and the shape of the petals unfamiliar. Curious, she plucked it from the rest and sought to locate it within the pages of her reference books, but nothing was quite the same. Frustrated by her efforts she visited experts to try and identify the strange but beautiful bloom. Not one could put a name to it. She looked and looked and sought to understand, not noticing that little by little the frail flower had wilted.
No longer XLIX 