Jul 12
tyler is still gone. he’s gone, but a space monkey comes up to the narrator, holding a small bundle of flowers in one fist. pretty flowers. dandelion, baby’s breath, chamomile blooms, a few sprigs of herbs mixed in. these flowers, grown with an awful mixture in the soil.
“for you, sir,” the space monkey says.
“for me?”
a nod. dirt flakes from the roots onto the porch. the space monkey drops the little bouquet into narrator’s hands.
“he said if anybody asked, they’re just flowers.”
walking back inside the house, he runs his thumb over the tiny chamomile blossoms. shakes the dirt off. tyler had grown them in poisoned earth and they were so beautiful.
he wonders when tyler will come back.
