‘Breaking News!’ So began the card accompanying the bouquet of daisies just delivered to her door.
‘Stars are no longer available to purchase in the name of the one you love.
‘We apologize for the consternation that will no doubt accompany this announcement but we must inform all lovers and star gazers that all constellations, all stars, all galaxies, and every twinkling thing in the sky above have been purchased by a single individual in the name of the one he loves.
‘The one he loves being the one holding this card.’
‘What an extravagant, and passionate – and goofy – kind of lover was he!’ she thought, smiling, looking again at the simple beauty of the many, many daisies – like stars in the sky – that smiled back at her.
She looked back at the card.
‘For proof of my passionnément à la folie love (passionately to the point of madness) pick a flower, any flower, and effeuiller la marguerite (remove the leaves from the daisy).’
Still smiling – and shaking her head in amusement at the eccentric looniness of her lover – she picked one of the many, many daisies – like stars in the sky – from the bouquet to play along with his whimsy.
“He loves me,” she whispered as she plucked the first petal.
And then, the stem of the beautiful little flower in one hand, the plucked petal in the other, she paused, tears suddenly forming for what reason she did not at first know.
Not bothering to brush them away, the tears spilled from her eyes, rolled, and then fell to the flower she held and there they lay, briefly, before disappearing below, her hand trembling, the love with which she was loved overflowing.
“He loves me,” she repeated again in a whisper.
She raised the hand holding the petal and brushed at her cheeks.
And then, the beautiful little daisy, missing but one petal, was replaced to join the many, many others.
Like stars in the sky.
