The late afternoon sunlight highlights plot detail. Artichokes glow silvery and sculptural in the waning light; fading cosmos flowers drift, their lush foliage weighing them down to one side. Wind blown, they grow horizontal now, flower heads tilted upwards towards the light, nodding in the breeze, like half-asleep park-bench drunks.
I take my time cutting flowers for home, enjoying the quiet warmth of the evening sun on my back. My heart is still racing a little from the shock of discovering a mouldering rat in the far corner of the shed. Despite knowing it is dead, I half expect it to pin those black eye sockets on me; twitch, rise up, and dart out the open door.
I must think about building a new shed soon. This one is home to so many invaders.
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