The owl had come flying into the shop after a very particular loud clap of thunder, slipping in through the door just as a customer was leaving. Zinnia had been busy writing down the last bit of details for the order when a tiny shadow blocked the light from her candle, and just as she peeked up to see who had done it, a burst of lightning illuminated the shop. The owl's eyes, staring straight at her as it perched on the edge of the counter, glowed from it and Zinnia screeched and fell off the bench straight onto her butt. With her hand pressed to her chest, heaving still, she stared at the owl. It jumped forward and dropped the owl onto the table in front of her. Reluctantly, Zinnia stood up and worked the letter open, frowning as she read it.

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I miss you too? The poem was erm... lovely, in a weird kind of way but I'm not quite sure if it was meant for me. If it was, I didn't mean to offend you or miss an appointment? I've been told I live with my head in the clouds. Is there particularly smelly flower that I need to procure for your needs to go with your lovely poem? I'm sure the recipient would love to have a gift to go along with it.

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The following 2 users Like Zinnia Gallagher's post:2 users Like Zinnia Gallagher's post
   Basil Foxwood, Cassian Valenduris