A Half Built Garden Novels & Stories

"A bit of both. I’m tired of looking for black sedans, Sera. I want to look at tomatoes for a change." I felt the corners of my mouth lift. It was a small, fragile victory. "Alright. Tomatoes. But if Harrison shows up with a watering can, I’m leaving." He laughed and shook his head and said nothing to that. *** The community garden was a hidden pocket of green wedged between two brick buildings. It was late in the season, so the flowers were fading into deep purples and burnt oranges but the air was filled with the earthy smell of damp mulch and woodsmoke.

The laundry and utility rooms are in the basement. At the back, a long dining table beside the French window that leads to the backyard garden. On the wooden floor on the left side of the garden, there's a barbeque grill, chairs, and a rectangular table. On the right, a metal swing with a roof for three people, a vegetable garden that has wooden bars as roofs. Very useful for growing grapes and vine type plants. At the center is an open space with grass.

"We will build new memories there." "Our home..." My eyes watered when it sank in that we would have a fresh start, beginning with this house. "How did you manage to build it in two weeks." "Non-stop labor, day and night. But it’s not fully done. The half-wing is still under construction, but the other half is livable. But..." He flashed me a wide smile, and the happiness swirling in his eyes was contagious. "If you expect a fully furnished house, you will be disappointed. I’m not good at it, and I was hoping my Luna would help decide on those matters."

She drove in the direction of the 'garden bar' as the place is popularly known. She got into the arena and parked well. Fully sure that someone was going to be trailing her, Nicole felt comfortable. The place 'garden bar' is a building, a small building which was transformed from a cottage into something model but maintaining its ancient architectural design. It was built in the midst of a garden containing different fruits and flowers. It is sometimes referred to as the 'orchard bar'. Outside the building, there was a thatched place for relaxation and often lovers wanted to be alone sometimes resorted there.

"Last time I was here you said there were many chores in the Garden" He laughed. "Well to start with we have to water my garden out back and we have to clean out the aviary." He offered. He had shown me his backyard the first time I visited. He called the backyard his garden. It was very private with a stucco side wall around the perimeter and not much bigger than tennis court. It was an odd mixture of vegetable and flower gardens along one side, a grapevine arbor along the back and a bird aviary along the other side and a small patch of grass in the center. I found it odd that there was no furniture of any kind. We had not spent very long out there on my first visit, so I was anxious to get

"I don't believe so. There was a lot of activity when it was being built—delivery trucks, landscapers, interior designers. Then suddenly, it all stopped. I've never seen any signs of occupation." "How strange," I murmured. "Would you like me to drive past again?" Henri offered. "Perhaps from the other direction you might see more." "Yes, please." As we circled around to approach from the opposite direction, I pulled out my phone, opening I*******m almost without thinking. I scrolled quickly to Nate's profile, finding the series of garden photos I'd noticed before. The most recent one, posted just before I left for Paris, showed a stone bench partially covered in fallen leaves, with the disti

He groans and roll his eyeballs. “ You’re such a kill joy!” I chuckled at his failed attempt to cheer me up and make me love this place. “ Be careful guys don’t break anything!” I heard Tonia talking to the movers as they move in our stuffs. I took the time to study the building…. It looks like a portable mansion. I nod. My legs find their way to the backyard, to confirm if what Tony and Tonia said are true. A small smile find its way to my lips as I saw a small garden of roses and lilies instead, and a single guava tree with few guava fruit on it.

The slam of the cardoor was deafening. I moved towards the door of the building, the bricks were a striking red color, and the building was three stories tall. The ones on the ground level had a bit of a garden as well, where all we had was a small balcony. I had tried to grow so many different things there, but it either got too much sun or not enough sun. I simply didn’t have the green thumb.

That thought cements my decision and I grab my phone and head out to the garden. The place is still half under construction. There are dirt patches and stone slabs stacked on one side. The scent of wet soil is heavy in the air. When we returned to the villa weeks ago, work had resumed, but it’s far from finished. I call the foreman. “Carlo.” “Mr. Moretti!” His voice is startled. “Good evening, Signore.” “When will the garden be ready?” I ask, scanning the dark outline of the space. “End of the week, maybe three days,” he says. “Still a lot to—”

The gravel crunched softly beneath his shoes as he moved further away from the main building. Then he stopped. A few steps ahead of him was a garden. Not just any garden. But a carefully designed one. Flowers lined in neat arrangements. Low hedges trimmed with precision. A small stone pathway curved gently through it, leading toward a sitting area shaded by a simple wooden pergola. It was beautiful. A peaceful and pleasant place to stay. But something made him frown slightly. He didn’t remember having this garden. He stepped forward slowly, his eyes moving across the space, taking in the details.