[A girl with shaggy white hair and piercing blue eyes is setting up a stand. She is carrying boxes filled with plants. The sign just says âFlowers for Funeralsâ. She doesnât seem too focused on anything besides a venus flytrap on the table.]
[There's a large man walking past her stand now, fidgeting with the pin stuck to his shirt - fixed on removing it. He is not successful. Giving up, he finally looks around to see what he's wandered into and he spots her plants. He seems curious.]
Uh, hello... You grow all these yourself?
[That is a stupid question. No wonder he can't take a bright red pin off his shirt.]
Oh. No. My mom orders the plants and then she makes arrangements. I do the funeral orders.
[She stares at the venus flytrap.]
I grew this one. I like this one.
