Downtown.
A flower shop was still lit a dim light in the drizzle.
The chubby shopkeeper leaned on the counter in boredom as if waiting for someone.
She checked the time.
"It's almost eleven o'clock. Will that customer still come?" she thought.
When the shopkeeper was thinking about closing the door, the wind chime at the door rang.
The shopkeeper straightened up immediately.
A tall man in a wet black suit walked in from the door.
"Mr. Crawford, I thought you weren't coming!" The shopkeeper greeted Byron with a smile.
"I went on a business trip and came back late," Byron said tonelessly, "Where are the flowers?"
"I've kept them for you!" The shopkeeper immediately took out the flowers and said, "I suggest you let me send them upstairs regularly. It will be more convenient."
"No, thanks."
Byron refused as usual and then left.
After Byron left, the shopkeeper realized Byron didn't have an umbrella.
And when the shopkeeper was hesitating whether to send Byron an umbrella, her husband came out from behind, yawning. "Did the customer take the flowers away?"
"Yeah. Mr. Crawford is such a nice man. He buys flowers for his wife every week." The shopkeeper looked envious. She then looked at her husband. The underpants he was wearing were askew, and the flip-flops bought two months ago were about to wear out again.
The shopkeeper's face darkened immediately.
She couldn't understand why her husband couldn't be as thoughtful as Byron.
After Byron returned to the apartment and opened the door, the room was still black.
He stood at the door with the flowers in his arms as if waiting for someone to run towards him with a smile from somewhere.
However...
As always, what awaited him was just endless silence and darkness.
"Snap."
Byron turned on the light.
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