It started with the name, high black letters on a white facing “Pistil and Stamen”. It sounded dirty, raunchy, like nature at its most base. It was a corner shop with huge glass windows on two sides. It always contained the most exquisite displays that must have taken hours to produce. There was a new one on the first of every month and the flowers were changed often enough that they were always fresh.He walked in off the hot street into cool perfection. The air was soft and gentle against his skin, a light aria playing, soothing his ears, replacing the sounds of the street.The owner, Stephan, was at the wide counter where he put together his amazing creations. The brown hair was mussed, glasses perched on the end of the aquiline nose. The countertop was scattershot with color, flowers of all sorts and sizes spread out around the man and the vase at its center.There were only three flowers in the vase so far, two purple tiger lilies and one yellow one in between them. Stephan caressed the stem of the yellow flower, long, sensuous fingers sliding up and down the green tube as the man murmured.Stephan looked up as Quincy approached the counter and gave him a distracted smile.
