Season: Buy Daffodils Out Of

She looked at the massive, golden cloud in his arms. A smile, slow and genuine, spread across her face—the first one in weeks.

When he walked into the hospice room, the sterile smell of antiseptic was overwhelmed by the sudden, aggressive fragrance of spring. Clara, propped up against pillows that seemed to swallow her small frame, opened her eyes. buy daffodils out of season

For that afternoon, the November wind stopped howling at the glass. In that small room, it was April, and the light was gold, and nothing was allowed to wither. She looked at the massive, golden cloud in his arms

"They don't just grow on command," Mara said softly, but she wasn't dismissing him. She reached under the counter and pulled out a heavy, leather-bound ledger. "There’s a grower in a hothouse three towns over. He’s a fanatic. Keeps bulbs in a deep-freeze to trick them into thinking winter has passed, then wakes them up with artificial UV and timed misting." "Can you call him?" Clara, propped up against pillows that seemed to

"Elias," she whispered, her hand reaching out to catch a stem. "It’s too early."

"I need daffodils," Elias said. His voice was thin, like paper left in the sun.

"No," he said, tucking a bright yellow bloom behind her ear. "The world was just running a bit late. I went ahead and started without it."