I deftly worked my fingers around the flower stems, arranging the blooms to appeal to the eye with my cold fingers. Roses and babies breathe as was the tradition for February. Soon, couples would be flocking to the storefront to purchase their sweetheart a bouquet as a sign of their undying love and affection.

How touching, I thought. 

My thoughts turned to one of our regular customers. An imposing man with fancy clothes, he would often come every few months and make a purchase for whatever girl hung on his arm that day. He was rich and charming so it shouldn’t surprise me but regardless I hated the man, especially whenever his wife would show up at the flower stand. They would never show up together and she never asked after him. She would simply survey our selection before purchasing herself a bouquet of yellow roses. She was a beautiful woman.

The thought weighed heavy on my mind but of course, Mother would say I shouldn’t waste my time thinking too deeply about it. She claimed to be human is to be flighty. And I, her daughter, must never be flighty. Hence the whole putting me through college for four years so I might make something of myself. I don’t think she was expecting me to choose to major in mortuary science. But at the end of the day, she had shrugged and said to herself “At least it’s not art”.

“Dearest!” she called to me from the opened door of the storefront. A wave of warm air hit my face from where I stood, now lost in thought and no longer arranging the flowers. Instead, I had busied myself by staring at the rows of bouquets, reflecting. The word I preferred to describe this activity was pondering. Mom often called it wasting time. 

“You’ll get frostbite just standing there.” She shook her head, her golden hair shaking around her thin face. “If you’re done, come inside!”

I give the flowers one last scrutinizing look before following my Mother’s instructions and making my way inside. The interior of the shop was much like the exterior- covered in a wide array of flowers and bouquets arranged in neatly organized rows. Practically every shade of color could be seen if one panned around the room. I would miss this place.

“Thank you for letting me steal you for one last morning,” My mother said from the back of the counter. She was putting away a spritzer bottle but her mind seemed to be somewhere else as she spoke. “I know you’re nervous to start your internship today. It’s going to be a real change of scenery.”

I nodded, brushing fingers along the tops of some lilacs. “Yes. But, in a way, I’ll still be celebrating life, you know?”

My mother began to wring her hands. “I suppose you’re right. Still, if you hate it there, you can always help me here at the flower stand. There is always work to do here.”

I puffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Believe me, I know. Besides,” I added with a shrug. “If I don’t like it, the internship is only half a year.”

My mother began to chew on her thumbnail, clearly on edge at the thought of losing her precious career of examining and preparing dead bodies “Six months.”

“Mom, I’ll be okay,” I assured her, stepping forward to grab her other hand. 

She kissed my forehead. “I know. I just miss you. You know this.”

I shook my head. “It’s not like I’m dying. I’ll still be around. You know I couldn’t stay at the flower shop forever.”

My Mother drew in a deep breath. “I know, darling. I know.”

~*~

My appointment to meet with the head Mortician was at approximately 10 am and as I took a sharp turn into the parking lot, I knew I was 5 minutes over that.

“Curse you, Selena” I chastized the clunky GPS device perched on my dashboard. The British voice which I had dubbed Selena when I’d bought her only offered a cheery, “Arrived!”

“You will atone for your actions,” I grumbled to her, shoving her in the middle console compartment. “Three wrong turns in one trip are simply unforgivable.”

I did an awkward little jog up to the building in an attempt to save 5 extra seconds of time despite my strong desire to stop and admire the fancy, gothic building before me. Who knew a funeral home could look so snazzy? The architecture, or what I saw it, was intricate and worthy of being admired but I had a meeting to attend. One that I was already late for.

Thankful, my advisor was there to meet me at the door. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” I started explaining as soon as he let me in. He was a rather tall gentleman with deep-set eyes and dark hair. Oh, and did I mention he looked terrifying. My excuses died in my throat as soon as I made eye contact with him, his face looking grim but placid, those dark eyes boring into my soul. Perhaps that was why he was a mortician? He was much too unsettling to work with the living.

I swallowed and began again. “My GPS was rather unreliable this morning. Sorry for the wait.”

The man seemed to lighten a little, face relaxing, much to my surprise. “Oh! You’re the girl who’s here for the internship.”

This surprised me even more. “Uhhh, yeah. I was supposed to meet you here like five minutes ago?”

The Man smiled in a way that could only be described as sheepish. “Sorry. Things have been slipping my mind lately. I’ve been rather busy. I’m glad you showed up. There is lots to do today.”

And with that, he began walking down one of the corridors with those long legs of his, leaving me to scurry after him.

“I’m sorry, what are we doing?” I said, calling after him and trying to keep up.

“We’re getting you started Miss…ehhh…”

I fought a smile as he paused and looked over his shoulder at me. 

“You don’t remember my name either.” 

Again, The Man looked sheepish. “Sincerest Apologies. Please humor me.”

I actually allowed myself to smile this time. “It’s totally fine. I’m Persephone.”

The Man returned my smile. “And you can call me Hades. I think you’ll fit in here nicely.”