Petals

Mary was sitting on the wall. The sun was bright, the day was warm, she was remembering Mark and picking petals off a daisy.

“He loves me, he loves me not…” she kept repeating.

There had been another man. She wanted to get closer to him, but he was her sister’s boyfriend. Mary gave out a sigh and looked to the horizon far, far away. This little trip to the country was nice, and she was happy to see aunt Melanie, but she could not rest because her mind was racing all the time. She would have to return to the city soon and face Mark again. She picked up another daisy.

“He loves me, he loves me not, it’s complicated, he loves me…”

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