IMPERFECTION • by Rosanne Dingli
Did I tell you about the geranium I grew from a cutting? I stole it from someone’s front garden as I raced for a bus one day. This huge unruly bush — which someone should have pruned — spilled over… Continue Reading
gardening
CHERYL PRESSES THE BUTTON • by Marc J Guillotte
“It’s ruined my garden,” Cheryl complained to her sister, Barbara, while replanting what she could salvage. “This was my only spot in full sun,” she said, the two of them bent on their knees in the shadow of the phallus.… Continue Reading
INVASIVES • by Moriah Geer-Hardwick
“Is that a Wyndham flower?” Milton stared with some concern at the strange, semi-translucent stalk, ghastly pale and no bigger around than his thumb. It clung precariously to the handle of an old shovel resting in the corner of the… Continue Reading
MARTHA’S GARDENS • by Jeff Switt
“I said it was aliens from space what took her.” Detective Southby looked away as if I had said something really stupid. He stuck his spiral notebook and pen in his coat pocket. The blackened circle of grass centered in… Continue Reading
BROKEN HANDS • by Alyssa Jordan
The seven of us stood there with a dumbstruck look on each of our faces. As we watched, sticky with sweat and tacky popsicle juice, the dust cleared enough to reveal a shoddy white sign that read: “WELCOME TO HOG… Continue Reading
STRANGE FRUIT • by Laura Alexandra Hunter
“You eat?” Carmel’s landlady was standing on her doorstep with two pieces of fruit unlike any she had ever seen before. “What is it?” Carmel asked speaking slowly and clearly. “You eat?” Evie repeated with a smile. “Yes.” Carmel took… Continue Reading
THE WIZARD OF ORDINARY THINGS • by Eliza Archer
I discovered his magic by accident. Tom didn’t like to show off. He was the sort of next-door neighbor you waved to when you both happened to arrive home at the same time. Nearing fifty, he spoke with eyes blue,… Continue Reading
ONE PERFECT ROSE • by Lisa Finch
A mild breeze pushes at my back as I walk across my yard to Stephanie’s. She crouches in front of the wilted rose bush, studying its leaves. “How goes the gardening?” I ask, even though I can see for myself… Continue Reading
GIUSEPPE’S BOUGHS • by Brandon Nolta
When the car emerged into Hell, the first thing Giuseppe Banca did was squint. Sunshine, strong and warm, shone from a pale yellow sky. Hell’s landscape was a rolling sea of grass and purple-tinged trees, stretching over slight rises and… Continue Reading
PEST CONTROL • by Beth Cato
Gertrude froze, the morning dew soaking through her thin-soled slippers. Half-eaten pink petals littered her lawn. A full swath of her prize tulips had been chewed down to nubby stalks — the rest looked intact, for now. She could only… Continue Reading