“How about a pepper?”
Interesting. Hmm… nope, I’d never add it to mango rice*. “Sure.”
“Green, yellow or red?”
Squinting as clouds glide past the sun, sidestepping puddles of fallen cherry blossoms.
“Is that bag too heavy?” Mist hanging in the pale golden light.
“You’re already carrying lots of stuff.”
“I have a free hand.”
Leashes tangling as dogs weave across the sidewalk.
“What kind of flowers are those?”
“The other ones — beside it.”
Three, six, ten tall lush bushes. Red, pink, orange, yellow exploding blooms. Reaching for each other with their uppermost branches.
“A bit cold still?” Seems early in the season.
“That’s where bodies are buried.”
“What?!” Abruptly halting.
“Oh, you know,” I shrug. “When you need to bury a body, gardens are one of the best locations — ”
“How do you even know this??” Staring.
“Well, unusually robust plants and flowers usually mean there’s something underneath, you know?”
Oh. Right. Welcome to my mind.
*Fresh mango, cubed, added to lime-infused brown rice. Oh, baby. Add thinly sliced red pepper. Wow. What went into this again? Exactly? Write that down!