Fuck these tomatoes, fuck this okra, fuck all this shit. This stupid ass garden. Grow organic food they said. It'll make her healthier they said. We did all this fucking gardening and in the end it didn't do shit. She still died. A waste of fucking time. We could have had so much more time together. Watching movies, going on trips. Instead we spent it in this fucking garden.
Weed killer better kill all of this shit. I don't wanna see this fucking garden when I wake up in the morning. If this doesn't work, I'll burn this fucking garden to the ground. I'm an idiot for believing this. Who the hell tells a cancer patient to garden? What kind of stupid ass doctor does that. Chemo and a garden. Yeah, that's perfect.
"Hey buddy, that's gonna kill your Garden," Anthony sticks his head over the privacy fence.
"Fuck you Anthony, you need to mind your own fucking business for once, because the way I'm feeling today I might jump over the fence and fuck you up."
"There's no need for that pal," he responds.
I toss the bottle of weed killer to the ground and make my way towards the fence. Anthony drops down. I hear him running and then I hear a door slam. He better be lucky. Because the way I'm feeling today, nobody would find his body. I might bury it under this fucking garden.
