Annie remembered peering at her from behind the rags of clothing. The woman, taking no notice of the stares, gracefully walked to the pile. “J459212” read her arm. The woman walked over to Annie. “This is for you.â€? As if by magic, the woman brought a flower from behind her back. A red flower. Not a gray flower. Not a dull brown flower. A red flower.
That night, Annie could hardly sleep. She lay awake; watching her flower, making sure nothing could harm it. What will I do in the morning? She asked herself. If they find it, they will stomp on it, telling me that this is no place for beauty. She decided she had to chance it. If she left it in her bunk, someone else would steal it. Then, the woman appeared next to her. “If they take it away, don’t fret.â€? She smiled. How did she know what she was thinking about?
Annie had thought right, they did take it, and they did stomp on it. Oh, well, I’ve lived this long without beauty, I don’t need it.