Fuchsia ‘Waldis Amrei’
In the year of Fuchsia
The hostess beside me wears a fuchsia uniform, with a small jewel on the left pinkie. She looks like a small ‘thing’, a kitty meowing every time.
Poor creature, at first, I didn’t consider her. Those old travellers always there weighing the dedication of that flying worker to be healthy, to breathe although tight uniforms.
My hostess is not on duty, she is returning to home. She is texting to a man with a mobile phone. She has a baby or this is what I have decided about her.
She has coloured nails, not red not pink but I’d say fuchsia. She is flying for an Easter Company, so precise and meticulous. Her uniform is not beautiful but orderly. She has in blush pink pocket a tissue where Fuchsia flowers are stamped. There are many unordered, coloured, perfect flowers in the beautiful dark fuchsia and blue, the colour of shirt.