She opened the door.
“Just for five minutes.”
“Mary, you’re tired.”
“I know.”
She walked slowly.
She didn’t have much strength anymore.
Aaron was with us that day.
He had been unusually quiet.
The three of us sat beneath a tree.
There were yellow flowers growing near the edge of the grass.
Mary reached down and picked one.
A tiny yellow daisy.
Aaron frowned.
“You’re not supposed to pick flowers.”
Mary looked at him.
“It’s one flower.”
