Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm sure someone else would want them. No money is being made. This was inspired by a comment on FBOTL. Thank you, Jim Smith, I'm now going to bed.

I don't hate you, I'm just tired. Ooo. Shiny...

When They Say To Stop and Smell the Roses...
by Ana Lyssie Cotton

The sun shone brightly on the small hill, dappling the daisies there in perennial whiteness that caught the eye and sent it wavering around in happiness at the tranquility.

Into this eternity of grassland came two men, equally weary and sad. Life meant little to them at times. At other times, there was too much of it, and they failed miserably. And yet they perservered. They went on.

Picking daisies seems like such a silly thing, when you're a Hero who can save the World.

But it's a small thing. A peaceful thing.

So they come to this hill, and they lay back in the grass, and they listen to the bees flittering around.

Above them fluffy clouds ride the sky in myriad shapes, their whiteness deepening the sense of tranquility.

"I can soar up there."

"Never was much for flyin'."

"The wind and the clouds are like gossamer to touch. Sometimes cold, though."

"Looks like a marble, don't it."

"Oceans and clouds and land, all pearly and clean."

"No lines."

"Cities a dotted landscape of blazing light, like a thousand candles in the night."

"Seen 'em. I prefer the green of the forests."

"Daisies are nice."

"Don't smell much, though. Even for me."

"They look like the stars, dotting the hills with white."


Silence fell for a time, each companionably lost in their own thoughts. The shorter of the two eventually produced a rather nasty looking cigar and lit it with an enameled Route 66 lighter. The taller of the two seemed as if he would comment, but the moment passed, and the smoke wafted lazily above them.

"Do not blow smoke rings around the cats."

"They're dogs."

"Actually, they look like dragons now."


"A ship at sea."

"Moby dick."

That silence settled down again, and the cigar was finished during its time there.

Eventually, the taller man sat up and sighed. "I should be getting back."

"Same here." The runt rolled to his feet and studied the daisies for a moment. "Bet Jean wouldn't mind a nice centerpiece."

"Lois might like something for her desk."

The two looked at each other, then both snorted and chuckled. They then proceeded to pick daisies, there on that sunlit hilltop. And each marveled at the absurdity of such as they doing something so silly.