Untitled random piece

Sunlight streamed in through the glass panes of the greenhouse. Tamsyn Raymer wiped sweat off of her brow as she finished watering a flat of anemone. She looked at her watch and smiled. As it was around three in the afternoon, her work day was done. After taking off her gardening gloves, she walked toward the front of the store.
The Raymer family, of which there were few of now, had owned and operated the gardening store for decades. Tamsyn herself had been working there since she was fourteen, following in her mother's footsteps. As Tamsyn reached the front of the store, she met her mother, who was checking out one of their last customers for the day. Her mother, Lila, cheerful and friendly as ever, greeted her daughter as she arrived at the counter.
"Hey sweetie. All wrapped up for the night?"
"Yup." Tamsyn vanquished her apron and gloves to her mother and reached over to pet her mother's cat, Lucy, who was splayed across a plastic chair. "I got a text earlier from Roger. He said the next shipment of ferns will be in on Monday." Roger supplied their flowers, and was also a good friend of the Raymer family. He'd grown up and went to college with her mother.
Lila Raymer nodded. "That's what I surmised." She sighed and started to close up shop. "Run along and get home, then. It is a Friday after all, don't you have teenager things to do?"
Tamsyn laughed, gave her mother a goodbye, and headed out towards her car. She undid the pony tail in her strawberry blonde hair and sighed. She was, according to her grandmother, the spitting image of her mother when she was seventeen. The hair with peachy auburn highlights; the deep blue eyes. They were quite similar, mother and daughter, both in looks and demeanor. Especially their mutual love for botany and literature.
Lila Raymer had gone to college to pursue a career as a journalist, but after getting pregnant with her only child, had switched her degree to be a florist and entrepreneur. Though Tamsyn enjoyed gardening and working for her family, she, unlike her mother, desperately wanted a career as a writer.

When Tamsyn arrived home, she took a quick shower, and then sat down on her bed. Her room was small, and had just enough room for a dresser, a bed, and a desk. But despite the size, it housed plenty of style. A rug, two lamps, posters of her favorite quotes, a mirror, shelves of books, and stacks of notebooks made her feel quite at home.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her well-read copy of a Walt Whitman poetry anthology, and picked it up. She flipped through, searching for something she wanted to read at the moment, when her phone rang.

Author's Note

not going to go anywhere, but I thought I'd share.
pic by ~CrazyMurdock1 on deviantart http://crazymurdock1.deviantart.com/art/Greenhouse-278886619?q=boost%3Apopular%20greenhouse&qo=6