[Prompt from http://daily-writing.blogspot.com/ .]
Tending the tulips and roses with care, spritzing them with drops of fresh water, Frank contemplated his lot in life. All his friends left the small town of King’s Hollow to join the army raids up north at the border. Woman, they had called him, fearful little girl. But his friends didn’t realize that Frank stayed in his father’s flower shop out of intelligence instead of fear; after all, Frank was the only one of his friends that wasn’t currently buried six feet under the ground with an axe buried three inches into his chest.