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Abstract
Despite her remarkably low score on the Morse Fall Scale, Dolores shattered her femur in August of 2018. Some studies suggest that grief began there: a fracture, a wail—but the mechanism by which we came to recognize it, to plant it in our beds, remained unexplained, and the role of the daughter was controversial. Who gardens? What is the optimal depth for this sort of burial? Rootbound women with a clinical presentation of imminent loss were eligible to participate; we had thought to control the study but found no suitable placebo. The vegetables were necessarily randomized, the paint stratified according to our bone structures; our delicate widow’s peaks; how deeply we had thrust our knuckles in the dirt. The essence of the paint was love, which, like the study, was double-blind at least. No symptom surveys were performed, but we hurt sometimes. Our findings were inconclusive. The jonquils are blooming. Is this common? Is it significant? Can you smell them from here?
