She drank tea every morning in the garden, watching the blue jays and the sparrows and the cardinals. The smell of fresh basil, lavender, thyme, and oranges breached her nose like a fever. Her mind was whirling in deep imagination while the clouds above sang songs of desperate agitation.

She collected bones and feathers to dress her altar in. The storm overhead was threatening while her eyes were closed and her back was blanketed in grass. Two squirrels were fighting over a fallen leaf, nipping each others noses. “Remember me here naked in the garden,” she said then pushed her heart-shaped lolita glasses onto her face, honoring the day’s last Sun.