Peter read Nathan's note, eyed the flowers, and put up a barrier around them. Then went to order more zinnias.

Then he went to call his suppliers. Where were they getting these things from?

The pothos was being very clingy, and he kept having to gently untangle himself before he ended up cocooned in tendrils. "It's okay," he found himself telling it, "you're doing fine, but I have to work."

Maybe he should give up and get a cat.


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