The banks of the lake were ablaze with colour and the sheer yellowness of the flag irises seemed to have stolen some of the sunlight and painted it in the grass.
Gillian usually walked with her head down, watching her own small feet and avoiding eye contact with anybody else in the park. But today the sheer beauty tempted her out of her shell, and she smiled at the sandy-haired boy with the scruffy terrier. He smiled back, and his little dog brought her a stick to throw.
A year later she carried yellow irises in her wedding bouquet.
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