Old Mrs. Grimwald spied on old Mrs. Bloom, toiling away in her yard: how arrogantly her sworn enemy preened her garden.
Mrs. Grimwald “harrumphed” down the ladder; she’d be damned if Mrs. Bloom won Year’s Best Garden a fifth year in a row. This was Mrs. Grimwald’s year.
And it would have been. See, Mrs. Bloom died that week of natural causes. But Mrs. Grimwald couldn’t bear watching her sworn enemy’s garden die, too. She toiled away in both gardens. And smiled when Mrs. Bloom won first place.