So that was the title of my very first Creative writing course assignment/text/short story.
Apparently (his handwriting is terrible; there are two words I can't make out even with the context's help) the teacher thinks I would do well as a gardener since my descriptions of plants and such was realistic, based on his own interst towards plants ("what?"). My story is also "Edgar A. Poe(ish)". Not far from what I was thinking about after reading it through for the last time before printing: Edgar Allan Poe meets the Harlequin novels. The difference lies in the literary value of those two... well, if the Harlequins really had any to begin with.
He had underlined the word 'fuchsia' and placed a question mark above it. According to both the OED and the Cambridge dictionaries online, 'fuchsia' means exactly the same as in Finnish: it's a colour. I guess the sex stereotype of a man not knowing the difference between the dozen shades of the colour white actually does prove right as far as he's concerned.
The subject for the next piece is 'The Motive' or 'The Motif'. Let's see... motives... and I just got the coroner's report... and I want to write about that... Yeah, it'll be about my father's suicide.
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You know, I'll never get over that picture. In that one in particular, Poe is a spitting image of my father.
