1. Forgotten Flowers
The scent reminds me of…family. Mother. And, peculiarly enough, Boromir. She kept their dried petals in an open box, on her writing desk, something I do not remember but have been told so many times.
Boromir told the gardeners to bring him their first blooms every year, to lie atop his room’s mantelpiece. Romantic: he would choose to remember Mother in that fashion.
No more romantic than you tending a garden to grow them, Boromir whispers in my mind.
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