Picking Daisies

Leonardo recalls that when in grade school his eyes first met those of a brown-eyed girl seated a couple of rows away from him. It’s hard to put into words, but something happened. It was his first case of “puppy love”. Those were the days when they’d take a daisy and pluck off its petals one by one, a; the while saying with a certain person in mind, “She loves me, she loves me not.” Oh, how it hurts when the daisy’s last petal was “she loves me not.”

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