There is a bunch of yellow Persian buttercup in my vase, withered and drooped. But I was not willing to throw her away, because she was the last souvenir I brought from the hustle and bustle of the downtown flora to the campus. There she was, plucking strong surges of nostalgia from the bottom of my heart—for the last night of strolling outside.

Leaving out the flower, I would easily confuse that night with any other night – it was a normal night. Fragrance of desserts, laughter of pedestrians, and singing of the street singers were floating in the air. The outside world was flourishing as before.

But that night, I slowed down steps unwittingly before a flower shop where flowers of all colors and varieties were put in tall white porcelain vases. Bending down to observe the flowers, I was attracted by a bunch of yellow Persian buttercup.

“Hey, it’s the last Persian buttercup here.” The smiling florist said, “Why not take it?”

“How long can it survive?”

“One week, my girl, if you can change water for it.”

I was convinced and bought the flower readily.

“See you next week.” The florist winked, “To get another blooming flower.”

Then breathing in the fragrance of the flower, I strolled back to school.

Never had I anticipated that the night would have been the last I had contact with the blooming world. Ever since then, our campus plunged into stricter quarantine because of the COVID-19. We were “cut off” from the outside, with the only response to a going-out application becoming an icy reminder “DO NOT GO OUT UNLESS NECESSARY.”

As for my Persian buttercup, it was impossible to keep her in bloom forever although I changed water frequently. Finally, what was left in my hand was only a bunch of faded and dried flower, and what was left in my mind was stronger nostalgia. I missed the blooming of my flowers, missed the smiling florist, and missed the outside “noisy” world which was silenced by the epidemic.

Gazing at the lifeless flower, I thought of what the florist said to me,

“To get another blooming flower.”

It just occurred to me that in nature, where the sun shines heartily and the wind blows freely, Persian buttercup will bloom in May and flowers continuously throughout almost the whole summer. Never will Persian buttercup be the last flower of the COVID-19 world.

So I’ll wait until the flowers bloom again, until the outside world blooms again, just as it used to, has always been and will surely be.