The Garden Club.

Flora was a busybody.

Nobody at the Garden Club could stand her.

Nothing was ever to her standard.

Frank had had enough of her griping about his fuchsias.

Weeks after she disappeared, even the police were impressed with how they bloomed.

‘Aye,’ he said, ‘new bonemeal.’.

Published by

Liezel Graham

Wife. Mum. Lover of words. Lover of the Word. Writer of stories. I drink too much coffee and dream improbably big dreams. The quintessentially weird kid, all grown up and (still) finding refuge in books and words.

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