A daisy, a solitary speck of white and yellow, bloomed prematurely amid the pristine green of Vesna's freshly mowed lawn at home. She shined brightly in the May sun, her golden centre a perfect reflection of the sun above. This trailblazing flower will not last long or even have a brief yet gorgeous life in a daisy chain. If she had bloomed in any other place, she would have been taken out, roots and all, and composted by the end of the day.
“Here you go, dear.” Vesna walked over and softly offered me a cup of freshly poured black coffee, which pulled me out of my reverie.
"Hvala vam," I thanked, gladly accepting the cup. (Thank you) I raised my cup of hot coffee to my lips and took a sip. My insides were warmed by the slightly bitter warm coffee. The forever familiar taste of the coffee
