Friday, September 26
Some days I arrive at the bus shelter around the corner to find the floor strewn with rose petals. My imagination takes flight, ignoring the mundane explanations logic tries to suggest.
They're from a man whose wife is very ill, possibly she has a kidney disease and needs to go into hospital all the time for dialysis, yet she insists on doing everyday chores as much as possible. When she goes shopping she takes the bus instead of her bike and he makes sure she walks on rose petals as a token of his love for her.
There's a family in my neighbourhood who are part of an obscure Eastern religion. Recently they've been blessed to have an important spiritual teacher take the time to come visit their live-in grandmother and debate obscure points of philosophy. Obviously such an esteemed religious leader warrants rose petals. (This does not apply to Unitarian Universalists, so nobody get their hopes up. Unless of course I become Supreme Leader.)
It's a new sport, the latest fad after parcours, a mix between tag and the old florists' slogan "say it with flowers", in which the aim is to shower your opponent with petals. Unfortunately there's one competitor who is very much like the fat kid that always tried to hide behind the curtains during hide-and-seek and keeps getting caught in the bus shelter...
The god Zeus - in my not-so-humble (to say otherwise would be hypocritical) opinion a much more credible god than Jesus' dad - is widely known as a horny god for all his extra-marital affairs, but I disagree. You see, he's not been getting any at home for thousands of years, so I think he has earned the right to take a couple dozen lovers. Exactly how does that crazy bitch Hera figure she's entitled to get jealous over that? Anyway, the rose petals are obviously the leftovers of Zeus' secret assignations. When he found the pretty girl (or boy, can't forget the precedent set by Ganymede) he was after, he shed the rose disguise, petals and all. Passionate love ensued.