Esme hadn’t been outdoors in a long time; she had been trapped inside her own head, cooped-up in her designer-bohemian garret, eating from silver serving trays and having afternoon tea at precisely 4:00 PM every day for what seemed an eternity.
She was so bored!
She ventured out one day due to unmitigated boredom, and randomly picked up the gleaming gardening shears abandoned on the grass (the gardener was taking an afternoon nap).
She noticed that a section of topiary was not completely aligned and immediately began chopping and shaping.
She worked all afternoon, into the twilight hours, and dismissed the confused but grateful gardener for the remainder of the season (with pay).
She had finally discovered her true calling, after decades of ennui.
She became fixated and laser-focused in her work (some might say obsessed) — no one in her sphere understood, but that was nothing new.
She held the entire shape of the world in her fingertips, in the sharpness of her blade, which spread out enticingly before her; green, verdant, and endless.
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