The Son of a Flower Lady

© Marta Podniece

He came to the big city of opportunities from the countryside. He was easy-going, warm and open-minded [Hello, world! I'm Yours!] and he was shining. He was shining whenever she smiled, laughed or looked his way. 

But they were just friends and there were certain circumstances. Recently she was left by someone, she was heart-broken. He haven't yet even started the complicated game called 'relationship'. That was it. It between them, and there were flowers.

They always met after school. They went wandering the well-known streets of the neighborhood for hours, passing familiar places like the crappy little shops where you can buy cheap beer and cigarettes, even if you're under age of 18 [and they were], fast-growing supermarkets and the public green zones filled with mines of frozen dog shit. It was winter 2004. It was a cold winter. But they met anyway. Always on the same meeting spot, with always the same flowers. Roses. They were both looking for the meaning of life or what makes sense. They both were dreamers. They both were lovers of beauty. Both somewhat out-casted. The king and queen of the out-casted teens. 

The day of high-school graduation came. She could hardly speak when he appeared to greet her with the biggest rose she ever saw in her out-casted life. It was a bit wilted and seared but so white like his feelings for her - a bit seared yet sincere and untouched.

Years passed by. They met again in a different city. They both were students now. They both were so brave and so passionate about this life with no regrets. They partied a lot. They had a great amount of boyfriends and girlfriends. They did crazy things and did not plan much ahead. They went on night walks and danced on small charming bridges of small charming towns with sounds of imaginary music and plentiful amount of emptied bottles of cheap wine. Meanwhile the wind was blowing heart-shaped clouds under the painted sky. They shared big plans to change the world and make it a better place. Bob Sinclair and Junior Jack together. It's all about the love generation in a stupid disco. Flowers remained. Silent and untouched.

His dream was to become a DJ, to wear the big headphones and hear the scratch of vinyl plates while mixing Summer Jam with the blues of the 60-ties... and seeing happy people. The dancing people... whole night long. People dancing on small charming bridges of imaginary towns and real-time dance floors. He did it. Despite the global economic crisis and depressing prognosis he enjoyed the imaginary Bed of Roses in new colors, and he still does.