The kid’s enthusiasm was … it was like pollen. The product of something beautiful, of something lively and vibrant that called attention to its form, half-natural and half posed to look ‘natural’ in vases they hardly belonged in. But here’s the thing--

ACHOO!

Mehmet put his hand over his face as another sneeze violently forced its way out of him.

This wasn’t gonna work.

“So let’s say you have this, this … dress on a dress,” he humored. “So, what, a dress filled with dirt and stitched around live plants? For one, that’s gonna weigh your lady down. For two, she’s gonna leave a big patch of dirt wherever she goes and get kicked out of all her nice dress parties. For three – the motion of going to and fro is going to damage the delicate plants and kill them. And five? Even if she decided to spend the rest of her days perched in one spot, never moving – the flowers are going to need new soil eventually.”

He paused, then remembered.

“And a dirt hat? That lady’s neck is never gonna be the same.”

He stroked his goatee in thought.

“Say. You ever seen a bonsai tree?”