Lily

“I need a lily.”

“Kid, I’ve told you. No lilies. None.”

“But I need one.”

“Sorry kid. Talk to other florists.”

“I have.”

The man sighs and leans back on the chair looking at me pitifully. “I’ve got roses?”

“I need a lily.”

“Kid, these roses have been produced by the best chemists in Canada. Get her a rose.”

“Her name is Lily. I need a lily.”

“Well, go find a girl called Rose. They can’t make lilies. Of all the flowers… no lilies.”

I lean against the counter as a quake rumbles through the shop. Damn those metallurgists, I think. And damn those chemists.

“Rose or nothing, kid.”

“Are they from the ground?”

“That ground?” The florist gestures outside with a smirk where molten metal spills out of Metal Trucks, sealing up the ground with a hiss. “Don’t be stupid. Can’t grow nothing from the ground.” The florist jumps up to stop a bouquet from falling as another quake rocks the shop.

“Yes, you can. The books show lilies growing from the ground. Real lilies.”

“Chemists, labs, cells, chemicals, flowers. Roses, sunflowers, orchids. No ground, no lilies.” He crosses his arms, but then remembers that he was sorting out the sunflower arrangement.

“But can’t you grow it from the ground?” I ask, exasperated. “From a seed, with water, natural light. From the ground!”

“No!” I take a step back as he brandishes a sunflower at me, but he sees it in his hand and softens again. “I never heard of flowers coming from the ground. There ain’t nothing left of it. You can’t grow flowers from metal, kid.” He shakes his head sadly. “I don’t know what they’re teaching you in school these days, but it’s wrong.”

The florist turns his attention back to the window where a splash of lava billows up in the distance. A group of Metal Trucks swarm towards it like bees to pollen.

“Thanks for your time,” I whisper, and shuffle to the door unnoticed.

I step out of the shop in search of another florist, passing shop windows that rattle with the Trucks as they work day and night suppressing the magma, yet only heightening the instability. The path is nearly unusable from the buckling cement, and I amuse myself by treading on pavement cracks that I read had once been full of dandelions.