Sunday, 28 March 2004 | Dead flower

Doug once tried to throw away a flower that looked reasonably healthy to me, so I asked him to give it to me instead. It was—I now know—a lily, which reminds me a little of a funeral home. It's not really that I wanted the flower; rather, intercepting it made me feel like I was rescuing the thing, delaying its imminent death in the pungent compost bin.

I kept it on my desk until it fell apart, dropping bombs of leaves and stamens next to my keyboard. I'd actually forgotten about it sitting there, until someone pointed out the sad dead stem poking up through the vase.

On Friday, he had more of them, this time a whole batch, and he was marching them to their grave. To me, they looked very much alive, if a little crinkled and browned at the edges. As he passed by me, he asked, "Are these dead enough to throw away?"

"Just put them on my desk instead," I answered.

"Oookay."

Within ten minutes, Emily stopped by my desk to comment on the bouquet. Not knowing that they were part of a rescue operation, she said, "Lisa, I know you like keeping flowers a long time, but maybe it's time you let these go."

"But I just got them," I protested.

She reconsidered. "Well, I guess the lilies still look okay."

"Um...which ones are the lilies?"

It was the first I'd actually looked at the flowers, and not merely assessed their place on the death scale. Before leaving for the weekend, I optimistically gave them a shot of fresh water.

...

A helmet! When I accepted a ride home from Bryan, I'd forgotten that it would be on his new motorcycle, until he handed me the sparkly orange armor for me to slip over my head. We live in the same neighborhood, so the ride to my place was quick. But to my relief, we didn't stop when we reached my apartment, but instead sped past. "Oops! There's your apartment!" he said, and then proceeded to drive me all around Williamsburg before finally dropping me off. It was late and there was no one out whatsoever, which made me feel like I was zipping through a quiet graveyard, unusually mortal and alive. I made him promise another ride.