The day we returned home from our family vacation was the day before we found household items growing in our garden. We pulled into our driveway at 8:12 p.m. The lawn in front of our house was muddied from the unthawed frost, and our wind chime dripped rhythmically. The cold of the night hung over our heads, a thick fog that blocked the moon. We hustled out of the car, quickly unloading our luggage to get into the warmth of our house.
“Oh my,” Father said. “Our back gate is unlatched.”
Although it was dark, I could see that the gate was swung all the way open so it hit the backside of the fence. Mother, Abby, and I dismissed it for a curious animal, too tired to respond to Father.
“Oh, Margaret, honey,” Father exclaimed from the backyard. “Come look at this!”
“What, what? What’s the matter?” Mother asked.
View original post 3,251 more words