here be wonder: bite-size short stories

blood in my garden

I never asked for this.

The city workers insisted it was to improve drainage. So they dug.

And soon, after only a few feet, they hit a pocket of blood. A layer of blood and skin and bone.

Naturally, they panicked. And I suppose I did too.

Reluctantly, I shoveled dirt on their fresh corpses. Another layer added to my garden.

I never asked for this.