A woman who lives in a florist shop – more accurately, who lives in a rose farm, a woman who is a little brighter than rose petals named ‘Sephia,’ a woman who laughs more cheerfully – voice fading at the end, a woman who shows her long neck with tidy black hair, a woman who has a graceful curve, a woman who reveals herself but not her whole self, a woman who conceals sorrow in her deep mind, a woman who casts out the sorrow and carves an image of a rose upon it, and who fold it twice and send it in mail, a woman who believes ‘love is a choice,’ a woman who stands alone after many choices, a woman who hears the sound of time waves through loneliness, a woman who becomes a blue blossom with touching fire on her wound, softly and uprightly.
In the florist, there lives a baby cat called Nana.