FlashNano2023 Use limbo, keen, garden, possess, secretive

 

FlashNano2023...a prompt a day for every day in November. write a flash fiction piece. Today's prompt...Use these five words in your story: limbo, keen, garden, possess, secretive

Paul never understood why his wife Sandy became such a keen gardener. When he first bought the house, she didn't care that the backyard was a mess and the front yard was overrun with dandelions.

She hired a man to turn over the backyard.  "What possessed you? We don't have that kind of money to pay people to do this stuff."

Before he knew it, they had beans, tomatoes, aubergines, two  kinds of salad on the table. Sandy was canning the veggies they couldn't eat before they spoiled.

"See," said. "We saved more than we spent."

Then she tackled the front. It became a forest of flowers, which made the Homeowner's Association write a letter listing the flowers that were against their regulations. 

He had just come back from one of his many business trips to find it on the hall table.

"You'll have to dig it up. Put in regulation grass."

She refused. Whenever he tried to talk to her about it she went out into the garden and just sat there. It wasn't like her to be so secretive. Usually he couldn't stop her chatter.

Yet ... whenever he came back from a business trip, one part of the backyard would be dug up and planted over. Sandy claimed that whatever veggie had been destroyed had some problem. She gave those problems Latin names.

He felt he was in limbo between his non-cooperative wife and the Homeowner's Association who had hired a lawyer.

"Maybe we should just sell. Move to a place where there isn't a homeowner's association. Sandy balked. He called a real estate agent.

Since the house was in his name, he agreed to the price, and signed the papers. The real estate agent said it was the gardens that sold the place. The new owners had not been told about the homeowners association.

Paul and Sandy had been in their new home three weeks and two days when the police came to their door, asking about the bodies buried at their old home.

Now it fell into place, the frantic gardening, the secretiveness, the dug up spots. He didn't miss his wife, the serial killer, as much as he missed the fresh veggies.