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I graduated from high school a few years back. I still live with my parents, but I'm using

this time to my advantage. They're kind enough to not charge rent and that allows me the

ability to save up almost every penny I make. The hope is that I can one day start up a small,

but legit in my business and move into my own apartment. You know, the American dream.

You see, much to my parents this may, I don't have a steady job. I prefer to take a DIY approach

and be my own boss. I buy and resell things online and take up our jobs here and there to supplement

my income. With the help of social media and Craigslist, I'm able to regularly mow

lawns and spring and summer, rake leaves in autumn and shovel driveways and winter.

Eventually, I live in off to buy a decent car and reach clients outside of town and maybe even

hire a few lackeys. What I'm here to share with you, however, is an incident that occurred almost

two years ago. One, it keeps me on edge to this day. In my first year of business, I introduced a

flower delivery service. Depending on the season, I'd either pick flowers from a round town or buy

them from a local florist, then deliver them to a person of my clients choosing.

Though it wasn't my most popular service, it did bring in some good money.

You'd be surprised at how much folks are willing to pay to rule a loved one with plants.

In all the time that I'd biked flowers back and forth from person to person, I only have a

picked up one regular. His name was red, and he was absolutely infatuated with his girlfriend,

Clara. Once a month, I would deliver her dozen roses to the local hotel where she worked.

...