Tim half-heartedly browsed the thrift stores in Williamsburg and wondered if Josie would appreciate a “Make-Your-Own-Cider”-kit. Probably not. Not enough, anyway.
Tim didn't mind Valentine's Day when the romance was still fresh. He could shop for clichés, chocolates and roses, and still be golden. But he was a few years into it with Josie and after a few years you're supposed to know each other.
The last couple of months things had gone wobbly. Tim knew that he needed to impress. He briefly considered a plastic box with fake moustaches before putting it back on the shelf. Tim wasn't bred for impressive gestures. He couldn't cook and he had no money to take Josie around the world. Not even out of state.
Finally he grabbed a life-sized plastic flamingo, paid for it and left.
As he wandered home, February snow splashing around him like a grey slushy, he prayed for some silver-tongued demon to possess him and deliver a passionate speech that would make Josie stay.
Something, something rare.
Something, something change.
Something, something love.
Finally he grabbed a life-sized plastic flamingo, paid for it and left.
As he wandered home, February snow splashing around him like a grey slushy, he prayed for some silver-tongued demon to possess him and deliver a passionate speech that would make Josie stay.
Something, something rare.
Something, something change.
Something, something love.
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