This was a flash fiction suggested by @armouredviolet, based on this picture she took on the Piccadilly Line.
She couldn't cry for many
years and felt a sickening envy for those that could. She stopped crying
completely between the ages of eleven and twenty-three.
At twenty-four, her heart
was broken, and for the first time in thirteen years, she cried.
Except she didn’t cry tears.
She cried petals.
Red, thick, rose petals. No
pain, other than embarrassment. She tried not to cry in front of others.
On the Piccadilly line that
morning, he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him.
For the first time in her life, she didn’t mind crying in
public.
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