eating sourgrass / izzy & felicity.

felicity carrow
🛠️ district three.

When life gives you lemon blossoms, I guess you're supposed to eat them. And take the opportunity to rope in some help.

At least, if you're in a pinch. This wasn't the information I was after when I crouched down in this green space, but I'll admit it's been a bit of fun getting to taste the different flowers. The orange ones were both bitter, and strangely spicy, but I would go so far as to say I even liked the purple ones. They mostly tasted like grass.

"Hey, you any good at this shit?" As far as greetings go, I've had more abrasive; I'm no good at batting around the bush, making small talk to try and introduce myself. This is the first time Isolde has walked by within convenient earshot. I do my best to catch attention and hold it with my eyes so that it's clear I'm the one who said something, before gesturing vaguely towards the assortment of supposedly edible flowers. "Atticus told me there's a way to a high in here somewhere, so I've been trying to learn, but none of these scream roll me in a joint and find a lighter."

If that doesn't motivate a person to sit down in the grass with me and look for the psychedelic mushrooms, maybe it's better Isolde keeps walking. I secretly, fiercely, with hope like a clenched fist in my gut, want her to sit.

I pluck one of the yellow flowers, and pop it in my mouth to chew.

"Ugh," I spit it into my palm. "That's like, sour, not in a good way."