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Summary
The Garden is becoming familiar with the taste of saltwater. Where a Crab steps, the damp death seeps into the soil, drying out the roots and browning the edges of the leaves. Every year, a new stranger, a new foreign influence. The feeling of something old and cracked and dead and empty, the feeling of ghosts and hauntings.
The Garden knows, in so much as a place can know, that Brock Forbes will not be any easier. Even so, it reaches out once again.
(On Brock Forbes and the Garden.)
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Bookmark Notes:
GOD MOTHERFUCKER IM SO EMOTIONAL