“Been a long time,” said the man. “Guess this is the last time for both of us. But that’s okay. I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”
His arms and legs were shaking from the exertion and heat. In another hour, the sun would be setting and this place would be cold and dark again. For now, weak sunlight poured through the branches, smothering the ground with shadows. The old mums, the ones from last year, were withered brown fibers that were drained of any real color. He brushed them away and the remnants scattered like old dust.
He hummed an old song while he planted the new mums. He wasn’t aware he was humming, but the silence was overwhelming, and the solemness of his act felt crushing.
Once planted, the man smiled. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind, old son.”
From Ordinary Handsome. Available at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00P46ZPA0