They say my garden is wild, Platero, as is my hair - Martha would be ashamed if she saw this garden.
Don't they know this garden is an ode to Martha?
That every year when the leaves lose grip, I prune erratic. I seek your approval, Platero, because you‘ve seen Martha do it so often.
That hedge over there: sloppy and unevenly shaven; the bushes butterflies like to sit on, brusquely stripped of their thick branches - hopefully none vital.
That’s why this garden is an ode to Martha: because I’m lost without her and not just in the garden.
Author Notes: Hervé SUYS (°1968 - Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and hasn't stopped yet. He usually writes them hatless and barefooted. Illustration by Lucette Cavicchioli
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Belgium • 55 years old