Folksburywoods

“I don’t understand. The flowers never lie,” said Dillard.

The gruggle monk had loved Shilard since they were pups and knew he would marry her one day.

The daisies said she loved me, and so did the dandylions,” Dillard muttered.

He had pulled petals in the morning and evening as well. “This can’t be how it ends,” said Dillard.

Today, Dillard awoke and knew he had to propose to Shilard. After washing his face, the gruggle monk picked a fresh flower and headed to his destiny.

“Good morning, Dillard. What brings you to my doorstep so early?” asked Shilard.

“I have come to ask for your hand in marriage,” replied the gruggle monk.

Shilard’s mouth fell open, then her face grew dark.

“You impudent fool. I am marrying Guthar on the Fifth of Po,” snapped Shilard.

“We are destined to be together,” stammered the gruggle monk.

“I grew bored waiting for your proposal. I moved on, and so should you. I will thank you if you leave before someone sees you,” replied Shilard.

“But the flowers never lie,” stuttered Dillard.

“You and those idiotic petals. Talk to the girl instead of those ridiculous flowers,” said Shilard, slamming the door shut.

Dillard stood in shock for a moment, then he turned and shuffled home.

“I should have asked her instead of ensuring all the flowers agreed with each other,” said Dillard.

Even with his heart broken, the gruggle monk felt he had learned a valuable life lesson.

“Don’t count the falling petals, like life, things fade before they bloom again,” said Dillard.

The gruggle monk told himself he would find his true love. She, like him, would count the daisy petals to see if love was true or a passing fancy.

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