Not Again
At the end of his life, all Jehan could think of – frantically, confusedly, dizzyingly – was that he had neglected to water his flowers that day.
As the soldiers raised their guns, and his bound hands trembled against the wall behind him, he forgot what he was dying for, what his friends were fighting for – he forgot France and the People, forgot Justice, forgot Freedom.
The People might be dying, but so was a small bowl of petunias, and that was more directly his fault.
At the end of Jehan's life, the dying petunias could only think, "Oh, no, not again."