Thought I’d escape to a rose garden to find some answers and
fresh air during lunchtime. Turns out that all I found was roses. And air so
heavily scented with the roses’ perfume, I could almost taste it. It didn’t
taste like answers and the roses didn’t talk to me like I almost expected they
would. Oh, they were ever so pretty, but utterly silent.
There was no dramatic soundtrack to accompany the moment,
and no epiphany to bring peace to my inner turbulence. What do you do when you want
something you just can’t seem to have? What happens when the past comes back to
remind you of your failures?
Rose gardens are such disappointing oracles of wisdom. All
they do is bob around in the breeze and look pretty.
