New fascination: men carrying flowers. Especially beefy, jock-ish men. Especially when the flowers aren’t for me and I don’t know the men.
They carry them so daintily, only an index finger and a thumb timidly pinching the cellophane that encloses a rose and its baby’s breath. Holding the flowers upright, in front of them, an arm stretched out uncomfortably. Almost like a torch, but lower, below eye-level.
Why don’t they just grab them with their fists, with all their fingers wrapped around the stems? Why don’t they carry them at their sides and swing them like clubs, like cavemen? Are they civilized? Do the flowers somehow make them dainty?