Valena Hedin

Guaranteed

They would always hum in the Garden. With the rising of what little sunlight filtered through the smog, they would flatten their feet to the ground and the song would start. Sometimes old hymns or pop songs returned to them unbidden. The Music made their steps into a kind of dance past the solar panels and water filtration system in the back of the tent, along the rows of beans, peppers, potatoes, carrots, and rice filling up the tent all the way to the buried edges, and around back to their lean-to in the middle. They thought of the place really as a Garden first and their bed seemed out of place.