"He loved me, he loved me not." The toothy petals floated away in the breeze. Daisy shivered and put Brad's flannel shirt on.
She pulled the last petal off, "That's not right," she mumbled. Daisy looked for another flower, but the ones nearby were ruined.
Moving away from the picnic blanket where Brad was lying, she found an untouched bloom. This time Daisy got the correct result. "I knew it," she told Brad.
Blood leaked from Brad's eye where Daisy had stabbed him with the corkscrew. It was pooling beside his head, drowning the daisies. "You loved me not."