By: Megan Cramer
She was a serial killer. Her victims always began green, lush and fragrant, bursting forth with life and vibrancy. But under her malignant care they drooped, wilted, molted, and gravity dragged them to the ground. Petals flaked off like snowflakes and leaves shriveled and detatched themselves from the once-seemingly muscular stem. She maniacally loved these bald and dismembered plants, which sagged like old crones’ breasts. The best part: she didn’t have to do a damn thing. She just had to forget to water them and place them in a dark part of the house. Murder accomplished! Another job well done!