Covent Garden Flowers, Friday (1/8)

[notarockharpist]

Not that she planned to say so out loud to anyone, but Yasha really enjoyed her job -- or at least all the parts of it that didn't involve dealing with people. That was an unfortunate necessity, and she was resigned to it, but honestly? Most days, the rest of it more than made up for the anxiety-inducing part where she had to talk to people sometimes. She enjoyed the aroma of the tea that she brewed in the morning, the books she had a chance to read when things were slow, and of course the flowers -- all the color and fragrance and variety of them.

Being able to spend a good amount of her time working on floral arrangements was a huge plus, too, and more of a healing influence on her than she was probably even aware of: it absolutely floored her that for maybe the first time ever she was expected, even encouraged, to devote her energy and attention to creating something instead of being a destructive force -- not that she could quite put that into words, but she was aware of it on some subconscious level -- and she was grateful for that.

So she was especially engrossed in that aspect of her job today; she was confident enough in her abilities after a year here to get fairly elaborate with her designs, and as focused as she was on them she nearly missed several phone calls. Good thing that at her size, she could cover the ground between her seat and the phone in a couple of strides.

Comments

[crimson_sister]

If Yasha paid attention to what was on the shelf under the counter, she would again find a parcel with her name on, with a copy of Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu, and a copy of short stories by Edgar Allan Poe. There was no note.

Lucille wasn't sure about Yasha's taste, but saw no reason why she wouldn't like those.

[notarockharpist]

Was it the whole goth aesthetic? It was the goth aesthetic, wasn't it. She'd find the books fascinating, anyway. She had a... complex relationship with her dark side.

In any case, Yasha did pay attention to the shelf under the counter -- she'd gotten in the habit of taking a peek down there every week or so since the last time she'd found a book addressed to her -- and did find the parcel.

She almost smiled for a moment as she opened it up to see what was inside, and in its place left (along with the last book, which she'd read twice already) a note that simply read Thank you very much. I'll take care of them. - Yasha