Paper Roses

The first time I ate dinner with him, I made a rose out of his napkin to keep my hands from shaking and he found it impressive, so I showed him how to make them. Later, he made the worst I've ever seen and said he'd taken to making them as well. I started making them every time I had a napkin after that, which was charming at first, but quickly annoyed the bartenders at my archaic queer watering hole when the bar became a field of paper roses. To him, I was like the paper roses. A doll- -ed up napkin, designed for single-use and tricking him into forgetting I became trash when he was bored of me.