This is a short story from /ztg/, originally written as a green text. If you're not familiar with the green text format, it's generally a story structure that favors brief sentences and usually less than 100 lines. It's a challenging, but fun, format to write in.
Also, this story is a little sad, so be warned.
Among the swirl of busy animals stocking up on fertilizer and flower pots at Bunnyburrow Nursery, Nick stood by Judy, who was trying to choose between the last two tulips left: the red one or the yellow. She would studiously study both, weighing their pros and cons, but Nick noticed her attention always turned to the scarlet bloom on the left.
"Which one do you like?" she asked her fox.
Nick noticed that her voice was softer this spring than it had been during the last few years, so much that he strained to make out her words. Or maybe that was just his own failing hearing.
"Why not both?" he asked.
"That would be too ostentatious," she replied, tapping her chin absently.
Nick chuckled.
Judy looked up at him and asked, "What, you old fart?"
"Ostentatious - that word's almost bigger than you are."
She hmphed and shook her head, then returned her attention to the tulips. A look of confusion crossed her face.
"What was I doing?" she asked, sounding a little lost.
"You were picking out a tulip for the flowerbed," Nick answered. He'd grown accustomed to Judy's little memory lapses, but he'd never become less concerned.
"Ah," Judy said, snapping back to the present and the task at hand. Another glance between the two and her mind was made up.
"The red one," she said with absolute certainty.
"Why that one?"
She looked up at Nick once again and smiled.
"I have my reasons," she said simply.
Once, right after they had married, Nick searched Zoogle for "how long do bunnies live", but then closed his laptop without ever looking at the answer. He didn't want his life with Judy to be a count-down. However long they had together would be long enough, he decided.
That was so many years ago. Now, lying on the chaise lounge, Nick watched his bunny preparing the soil in the flowerbed. She carefully tilled, then dug a hole just deep enough for the tulip bulb. Once it was in place, she patted down the topsoil and slowly rose from her crouch, pausing halfway for a moment. Nick grimaced. He was about to go help her when she finally straightened all the way back up.
A single red tulip sat alone in the white flowerbed.
"It looks a little lonely," Judy said.
"I don't think flowers get lonely, Fluff," Nick said kindly.
For a long moment, Judy stood looking at the tulip while Nick looked at her. Her fur had long ago lost its luster and her ears would never perk up again. The old sunhat she wore was more holes than hat and her simple pink calico shirt was nearly white from repeated washings.
"If you say so," she said, and turned around. Slowly, she ambled across the small yard to Nick's resting spot under the sun umbrella. She started to climb up on the lounge, but she couldn't lift her leg high enough. "My hips are acting up today," she said apologetically.
Nick reached over and picked her up, ignoring the twinge from his back, and placed her on the chaise in front of him. She lay on her side and reached out with her paw. Nick flipped his tail over her and she took a hold of it in her paws, hugging his brush to her chest.
Together, they looked at the lone tulip and said nothing.
"I guess another tulip wouldn't have been so ostentatious," Judy said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Nick nodded in agreement and softly kissed the back of her head.
"I'm a little tired," she said and settled back against Nick. Her eyes had barely closed before she was asleep.
A few hours later, Judy awoke, Nick's tail still in her paws.
"How long was I out for?" she asked, slowly emerging from the fog of sleep.
"A little while," Nick said and gave her a gentle, careful squeeze from behind.
"I should get up -" she started to say before her attention was drawn to the flowerbed.
Next to the red tulip stood a vibrant violet bud, not quite open yet, but showing every sign of being a truly spectacular flower. Judy gasped a little.
"Not too ostentatious," Nick said.
It was Judy's turn to smile as Nick hugged her.
For a long time they both looked at the two flowers, together, yet alone, in their flowerbox.
"I don't think it will last the spring," Judy finally said.
Nick closed his eyes and held on to her.
"It might not," he said, "but however long it lasts will be long enough."