Just Selling Blossoms

He stood there, they say, for twenty years in his somewhat lonely “spot” selling flowers.  “His place” was at a highway ramp from a downtown business district.  Logically, it was a relatively good spot.  People who worked downtown heading home far enough out to need a highway would pass him and maybe take some roses to someone to be remembered.  He was established as being there even if someone was headed another way.  Someone said he was a veteran.  It was also said he earned comparatively little with his flower business; but, income is income no matter what tax bracket. 

Well, the overhead isn’t much – a license to sell, two plastic buckets with water to keep the flowers fresh, money for the merchandise from whatever florist is a supplier and bus fare to get around.  If it doesn’t work, nothing much is a loss as unsold flowers can even be given to someone or just personally enjoyed if you come right down to it.  If it does work, one is free of the ever present loss of a job possibilities.  Evidently it worked adequately if he was there twenty or so years.  He was seen a couple of times by yours truly, once close, on the bus with his buckets of flowers. 

Someone drove up, demanded his money and shot him.  He did not give them his earnings.  Maybe he was still quick in movement as reportedly he was shot in the arm.  Although buildings were torn down to build the highway, making it an area short on people around apart from those driving, it is still near a city business district and the incident was robbers shooting people on the streets.  And, the town isn’t that big.  Nor is the open violence against those who are just ordinary people trying to live ordinary and humble lives.  The signs riding society are not good. 

Beautiful flowers are a gift of joy. 

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