Memoire of a lost garden

Neglected garden

“Mo-o-o-om, can we go home now?”

The slug squirmed as Jeremy poked it with a stick. It took me aback to see him acting so violently despite my own revulsion at seeing the fat slimy thing on a withered rose bush. The rose bush had been a gift for Evie’s eightieth birthday. I had chosen it for its zebra striped pink and white petals.

“No, I need to shout at Sipho.”

“Huh?”

“Shout at Sipho!”

“Fine!”

“Sipho! I want to go back home so I can play on my PC! Come out here so I can shout at you!”

“Shhh! What are you doing? He’ll hear you!”

“But you said–”

The squeek of the garden gate made us turn around just in time to see Sipho peering into the yard.

“Miesies Johanna? Are you lost?”

I pulled myself up to my full height and puffed angrily. “Aren’t you lost? Where have you been? This garden hasn’t seen a drop of water in months!”

“I look after Miesies Evie’s garden.”

“You call this looking after a garden?” I heard my voice go a little shrill.

“Miesies?” He looked at a bit of a loss. “Miesies Evie’s garden is next door.”

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