Chapter Twelve
“What are you doing to those poor flowers?” Allysa asks from behind
me.
I clamp another silver washer closed and slide it down the stem.
“Steampunk.”
We both stand back and admire the bouquet. At least... I hope
she’s looking at it with admiration. It turned out better than I thought
it would. I used florist dip dye to turn some white roses a deep purple.
Then I decorated the stems with different steampunk elements, like
tiny metal washers and gears, and even super-glued a small clock to
the brown leather strap that’s holding the bouquet together.
“Steampunk?”
“It’s a trend. Kind of a subgenre of fiction, but it’s catching on in
other areas. Art. Music.” I turn around and smile, holding up the
bouquet. “And now... flowers.”
Allysa takes the flowers from me and holds them up in front of her.
“They’re so... weird. I love them so much.” She hugs them. “Can I
have them?”
I pull them away from her. “No, they’re our grand opening display.
Not for sale.” I take the flowers from her and grab the vase I made
yesterday. I found a pair of old button-up women’s boots at a flea
market last week. They reminded me of the steampunk style, and the
boots are actually where I got the idea for the flowers. I washed the
boots last week, dried them, and then super-glued pieces of metal to
them. Once I brushed them with Mod Podge, I was able to line the
inside with a vase to hold water for the flowers.
“Allysa?” I place the flowers on the center display table. “I’m pretty
sure this is exactly what I was supposed to do with my life.”
“Steampunk?” she asks.
I laugh and spin around. “Create!” I say. And then I flip the sign to
open, fifteen minutes early.