Watching the roads widen again as I made my way back towards the city proper gave me a sense of relief. Even the outdoors can feel claustrophobic in the wrong places. The streetlights were starting to turn on, giving a yellow glow to the gray buildings around them. People shoved past each other on the crosswalk as I pulled up to a red light. They were all looking down, watching their feet, eager to get back to their dead-end jobs, their filthy homes, and their loveless marriages. It's too common for an entire crowd of people to feel incredibly alone.
The light changed and I maneuvered around a few stragglers. My apartment building was lit up brightly, but my windows were dark. Dipping down the ramp, I found a parking spot and took the elevator up to my rooms. I was greeted by my collection of plants, a tiny little farm along every shelf of my wall. This is my favorite part of what I do. I checked on my newcomers; some of them still had some life in them. However, the tray of sprouts I found near the dumpster of the garden center were finally gone. I pulled a round white pot from the stack in the corner and scooped some soil from the bin into the pot. Digging my fingers deep into the dry dirt around the first sprout, I pulled it out of the tray and bit a brown leaf off of the shriveled stem. It tasted like dirt, but it finally cleared the taste of Tilly's blood from my mouth.
My eyes alighted again, the same blood-red even though there's a clear absence of blood. Just a leaf. Any fresh biological matter will do, but people frown upon biting fingertips off their recently deceased loved ones. The chant took the same amount of time, even though its target was so much smaller. A ritual is a ritual, after all. When I was done, a proud leafy stalk stood in front of me, almost tickling my nose. Removing my hands, I started on the next one. They won't grow fruit if I can't germinate them. Plants have genders; did you know that? They need to be fertilized with pollen. Dirt started to cover my face as I worked, and I coughed again. Messy work.
When the tray was finished, I started harvesting the fruits that have grown in my absence. I only left this morning, but plants this healthy produce rather quickly. Even after piling berries into the bowl on my kitchen counter, the cardboard box assigned to hold today's crop quickly filled up. Strawberries, bell peppers, a few potatoes that I took the time to wash and dry, all tossed together. The raspberry thicket on my balcony is really starting to get ahead of me, so I put it off until tomorrow.
Swinging the box back and forth, I made my way down the hallway, following the sound of the clatter and screams.
"Wellson," I called, knocking on the door.
I heard the patter of a half dozen pairs of footsteps and some shushing before the door opened.
"Abergene, come in," The bedraggled mother of five greeted me as pairs of grubby hands started pulling on the edges of the box. "And, please," she continued, "We've talked about this. Call me Emily."
"No thanks. Just here for the delivery." I allowed the box to be pulled out of my hands by the little devils and took a step back. If she noticed the blood and dirt caking my coat, she doesn't show it.
One of the little ones, mouth already smeared with fresh strawberry juice, picked a piece of paper up off the floor and shoved it into my hand, then waddled off.
"Oh, right. Kiera made that for you." Emily explained.
I flattened out the drawing and study it for a moment.
"It's not very good," I admitted.
"She's a bit stuck in a rut right now artistically. I think moving from a crayon medium to watercolor has been hard on her," Wellson agreed, shoving the box backwards with her heel to encourage the children out of the doorway.
"Ah, crayon. Some of her best work. Maybe she ought to try charcoal instead."
"I'll pass the suggestion along," Wellson nodded.
"Well, it'll have to do for now. But she's on thin ice." I turned on my heel and started back towards my door.
"Abergene?" She called.
I stopped and turned.
"Thank you. This would have cost a day's wages at the market."
I smiled and gave a small bow. My favorite part of the day.