The next day, Chi gave Anna a lesson in deadheading. The basil needed a good trimming. So there they were, knees in the dirt, Anna’s curls looking like human k-opioid receptors strung up on the wrong antagonists, and for some strange reason all she could think about was that damn apple pie drinking sunbeams on the window sill above the sink. She felt as though it had instilled something in her mind. That beyond its gastronomic allure, there lingered a far more important charm, a hidden meaning so to speak.
To make matters far more eerie, she sensed she was being watched–though by whom she could not know. Of course, the one doing the watching was Hamster, lascivious, lecherous, libidinous Hamster, who was then perched against the edge of her cage, big black bug eyes pressed to the glass, observing the girl, thinking only of the strange pink mycelia between her legs. Can’t a girl garden in peace?