Agapanthus took pride in her reputation as a hearty nuisance. Not easily uprooted, she lay dormant for as many months as it took to give the unappreciative humans hope that she wouldn’t return this year. Then UP! she’d volley her initial shot of verdant stem, reminding them, perennially, who triumphed.
Blooming victory sans flamboyance, Agapanthus would arch her purple flowers to the sun for leisurely withering. Then again to ground for the next cycle of human swearing and sweating, waiting out their impotent posturing.
• • • • •
Rachel S. Reed is a Pasadena-adjacent writer spinning whimsy during her down-time. She has a soft spot for sci-fi and quells her irrepressible penchant for nostalgia with frequent hops on the lindy circuit. You can check in with her on Twitter.