It's been 10 years since that day. The thing I regret most is not looking to see what was lying in the road. I'm almost sure it was my chrysanthemums, but I can never be certain. Why would he have thrown them out? In a way they symbolized what I was experiencing, the longing to do something, to mean something. And maybe giving them to him was my way of asking whether he believed in my ability to do so. I thought he did; but seeing them there, or rather imagining it, planted a seed of doubt in me.
Maybe that's why I never did any of those things I dreamed of. I didn't break out of my role in life; I didn't become a tinkerer or a traveler. I didn't even garden the orchard. Sometimes I think it was the chrysanthemums, and sometimes I think it
Maybe that's why I never did any of those things I dreamed of. I didn't break out of my role in life; I didn't become a tinkerer or a traveler. I didn't even garden the orchard. Sometimes I think it was the chrysanthemums, and sometimes I think it