“Aime is a wonderful soul. The man has an uncanny knowledge of all things botanical. He simply runs a flower shop, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he tutors at The Centennial Tower!” -Edouard Dechant
Aimee sat back in casual conversation amongst the cacophony of the Lobby one late evening.
Aimee resides on the third Floor: C5.
The Vignettes
A gasp escaped Aime's lips as he dropped on his floor to his knees and crawled around at the sound of the soft buzzing. He began crawling with the care of a soldier in a trench. His head slowly raised to see a honeybee inside his hand crafted model of a bee’s nest. A tear rolls down his cheek as he utters to himself quiet and shaken. “Good enough for nature...”
Aime St. Flour peers over a few sketches of hives, beehives. Ranging from simple honeybees to that of hornets. He often considered moving out into the French Country where he could tend to not only flowers, but bees, since they easily went hand in hand.
The thought of selling flowers through the summer and honey in the winter also appealed to him.
A feeling of excitement stirred in his heart as he looked to the paper Mache beehive, he had constructed by hand with all of the finest of details.
Then the thought of having the best flowers, which would give him the best bees, which would give him the best business.
The excitement quickly started to melt away, settling his chin in the palm of his hand, leaning on the arm of his chair like a sot.
"I can't possibly sell that many flowers..."