Microfiction Day 14 – “The Gardener”

It was the twentieth anniversary. Over one thousand weeks. Over seven thousand days.

She remembered the first time she found that her tiny but perfectly formed garden had transformed overnight. The grass had reached up to her mid thigh. Her dahlias were like a giant’s fist trying to punch the clouds from the sky. Her lavender could be seen from two streets away.

So she had gardened. Every day. And every day she woke up to find it was the same.

But not today. Today, she found a lake where her garden had been.

“You’ve GOT to be kidding me.”