Sebastian Krüger



The same all over again. Hot day, big nut-cracking storm at night. My garden hasn’t been dry in over a month. I think the beets have started bleeding for my anorexic carrots. And under their straw mulch, god only knows what my potatoes are doing. I imagine they’re developing somekind of ebola mould that’s gonna make my toes and fingers come apart like sections of a Tootsie Roll. At least my pumpkins are doing well: last I looked, the vines had grown all the way out of the county and were headed for Mexico.

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