A little boy stands in a wide open field, holding a flower in his hands. He slowly pulls at each petal until they break from the plant, uttering phrases as each petal is removed from its rightful place.
She loves me.
She loves me not.
She loves me.
She loves me not.
Slowly the petals disappear into the grass, and as only one remains, the little boy squeals in joy.
She loves me!
He runs through the field. When the field ends, he runs on the road. When the town approaches, he runs still. He only stops to catch his breath, or when he is in danger of being run over by a carriage. Then he continues running, and does not stop until he reaches the manor home of the governor.
The little boy walks up to the door, having to tip-toe in order to reach the door knocker, and knocks on the door, waiting patiently for an answer.
A little girl opens the door.
What are you doing here?
The little boy holds up the picked flower.
I love you.
The little girl shoves him and he falls to the ground.
How could someone ever love a boy like you? You're poor.
She slams the door and leaves the little boy on the ground, his knees bleeding and tears running down his face.
I love you.
He gets up and runs away, leaving the flower behind.
Angst, angst, angst! Came to me suddenly. Please review!