flowers to dust

speaking of death and destruction. human corpses are the life blood of flowershops. indeed it must go back to times when sweetly scented foliage still was needed to mask the ghastly odors and sights of rotting corpses, before chemistry and shovels got discovered. being raised mostly in a mortuary, next door to a flowershop, has consequently swayed my preferences toward taking the extra time and slowing down, if not completely to stop, and smelling the flowers as many times before my demise as practically possible, as opposed to depending on sporadic donations after the fact. happy pearl harbor day.