Who: Flora and Proserpina When: Monday afternoon. What: Two old friends meet up. Where: Central Park.
Flora was excited. She'd gone so long without any word from any of her kin, and then suddenly a group of them popped up at once! It had been nearly twenty eight years, which would have been a blink of an eye in her old life but these days it seemed to drag. Of course, she was having fun. Having fun was something Flora did very well, both in her old life and in her new one. Lovers, parties, wine, dancing... It was all the same to her no matter where she was.
Still, she couldn't help the hopeful glances over her shoulder as she worked at pruning the dead heads off a bed of daffodils, as if one of her brothers and sisters would arrive at any moment. She'd told them where she would be, after all - she was mildly offended they hadn't been able to work that much out for themselves - and now it was really just a waiting game. Sadly, Flora was very impatient.
She sighed to herself, plucking the last dry, dead head off the green stems and flicking it into the green sack they provided her with. Pushing her long red plait over her shoulder, Flora sighed and turned to heave the bag over her narrow shoulder to take it back to the compost. At least she still had her garden...