Undertaker was certain he had a quarter somewhere. But even if he managed to find the dull, ridged coin, he was unsure whether it was appropriate to tip the bag boy who ceremoniously carried groceries to Undertaker’s Scream-Mobile. In this particular case, the young man’s head was not even visible over the towering stack of Plant Porridge, Meat Melt, Random Snacks, and Unevaporated Milk with which Undertaker planned to pack his capacious pantry.

Given the boy’s visible muscular strain, Undertaker determined to bestow the ancient quarter but his generosity was hampered by the emptiness of his pockets. It seems the quarter had never existed in the first place, rendering Undertaker’s social-economic dilemma utterly void.

It was planting season and Undertaker’s garden was completely bare, save for the vermicultural hosts chomping voraciously and visibly through the healthy loam. Undertaker’s wife, Crazy Penny, was submerged in her water chamber, unable to see, hear, or otherwise sense Undertaker’s presence. A digital depiction of thirteen dogs greeted Undertaker as he walked in the door. Undertaker’s favorite digital pet, Sloppy, mounted a compelling campaign for a warm handful of Meat Melt.

The fundamental rule of any successful garden is, “right plant, right place.” It simply wouldn’t do to plant a climbing vine in the expansive clover lawnscape; nor would a sun-hungry cherry tomato flourish in the shade of the rabbinical tree. 

Throughout the afternoon, hawks circled overhead, federally protected, as sweat gathered momentum and divebombed from Undertaker’s wrinkled brow. Crazy Penny was almost saturated with liquid and Undertaker looked forward to her company.

In the pleasant snapshot of a scenic home horticultural blessing, the birds searched for the rodents, who fed on the insects, who thrived in Undertaker’s garden. This season he would plant native species like Penstemon palmeri, Asclepias tuberosa, and Dalea purpurea. Indigenous plants attracted specialist pollinators who could only self-sustain with the help of a single flora. Rusty patch bumblebees would crowd the purple prairie clover, attracting Momotha verborosa—their only known predator. These inkling moths served as forage for angry crows, who were occasionally caught by the native nighttime cats, who prowled through the dungeonous extremities of Arvada, Colorado. Undertaker was pleased with his work. The toothworms were asleep and full of sheep’s wool, which Undertaker used as a natural fertilizer. Through the window, Crazy Penny was full to bursting and ready to wake up. Undertaker picked up his trowel, dusted off his knees, and walked towards his home. None of his neighbors were visible but Crazy Penny assumed they were smiling. A large variety of insects supported life in the neighborhood. The neighbors understood the importance of their invertebrate partners and created a healthy ecosystem for all species to coexist.  

Andrew Neely is a writer based in Denver, Colorado. He graduated from the University of Colorado with a BFA in Creative Writing.