Glories

The morning glories looked around peevishly, having opened resplendently only to find no one actively noticing. “Bald ape nitwits!” the glories hissed to the blooming bramble. “They don’t deserve us.” The bramble, fantasizing about a wild heather it had met online, sighed and turned only slightly. “Deserving us isn’t really the point; I mean, deserving or not, do you want those sweaty pads with sticky digits to start mauling you with adoration? You’d smell like phone screen cleaner, old socks, and caramel corn.” The glories all screamed in unison and slammed shut, but the bramble laughed. Truth always cleared a room.