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Weekly Contest #86
My family was good with flowers. The only thing Grandma had been able to grow consistently were the many varieties of florals and ferns that wound around the property fence and weaved across the lawn, leaving gentle lines surrounding the house. It was like living in a fairy ring, or her protective spell. Dad had inherited her love of nature, but his obsession was with those smaller flowers that beckoned the coming of food. He grew all sorts of fruits and vegetables, and grew them well too, something even Grandma had failed to achieve. Aunty...
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