Flowerboy. A nickname given by a known customer of mark's, referring back to his occupation taking place at a local floral shop located on the side of town. A small urban shop, lottered with numberless people. Decorated with numerous marbled tables accompanied with spiral vases potted with creme coated flowers to count from grasped his attention two months ago from a midnight's stroll somehow lurred the young man through those glass doubled doors.
On forth of those two months passing, mark had spent working behind the counter. Alongside a female associate named claire. The short-tempered brunette haired woman he'd befriended a day after an interview. Her main priority were accompanying the cash register, while mark stood beside. Sometimes, he'd lean over the counter with nothing to pin in mind, but to stare upon the outlook of the town's busy streets framing beyond the glass doors. A usual sight for the young man as the hours progressed he'd wait for a random stranger to stroll past or sort through flower bouquets stored in displays bestowed in the back.
An honest saying that mark enjoyed his time picking, cutting, and sorting flowers were better than working in an office. Never in mind has he'd tended to type away, til the clock falls. Seeing himself as a buisness man weren't exactly the ideal job. In other words of not wanting to be overworked in such a heap of rush. Adding only stress which weren't the case for mark. Although, jobs classified in wearing a buisness attire aquired a profitable wage. Despite being caged in a cubicle, mark sought more of an uncomplicated, straightforward environment to settle down for a while. And that choice were to be a florist.
Furthermore, he did so in tending to flowers as much could be done those days. It's just if it were so easy in decorating roses without having its needled thorns pricking his fingers every second. Another that might've snatched his attention from the counters and spiraled vases were that nickname addressed directly towards mark wouldn't shake from his head. Flowerboy. A typical nickname given from a customer known to claire had fonded a liking into the young man.
First account were to think that himself were the rookie working aside might've caught the older man off guard with an unknowing intention of withdrawing his attention from claire. Atleast, for a brief moment mark thought the man were just welcoming him into a newly dedicated friendship. Yet, it would've been the first thing to pin unless mark didn't draw the man's attention into further span. The worst part about it was that it weren't mark's plan in taking an interest towards his customer.
Next morning, mark arrives in town on foot as usual. Fastening his pace down the soaked sidewalk with his head dipped into the opening of his black raincoat. Both hands submerged deeply into his pockets, while proceeding crossing the slippery streets as the gloomy sky weeped to its rude awakening.
"Good morning mark, I see the morning's drizzle caught you, eh?" Asks Claire, tapping her dark olive polished nails against the counter-top. She stood behind the register as usual with a freshly stick of gum popped into the side of her mouth in no content of care pinning the air. Mark unfastens the zipper of his raincoat before answering.
"Yeah, it sure has. If you were standing by the door, you could've witnessed a horrifying scene of me almost slipping into a flooded pothole in the middle of a traffic street."
Claire then drags her nails from the counter. Her rose smudged lips curled into a sly crescent before stepping away from the counter when a thought trickled into mind. Occurring back to turning the closed sign to open. She'd received a call from someone asking for a purchase of a bouquet of lilacs and lilies. As for a simple delivery forwarding across town. On a monday like this meant she had more meaningful events to attend. Which were staying behind the counter. A task like this would easily be dealt with someone more capable in achieving quicker.
