The outline of the flowers he gave me are staring at me from their designated place by the window. The room is dark, but I can still see their droopiness, their total deadness. I find it sad that they're here as a reminder of him, but he is not.
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
the flowers; h.s.
Hayran Kurguthe flowers are a symbol of her presence but his absence.
