2838. The prettiest garden © Bruce Goodman 8 September 2023

Patreen Dragicevich was rumoured to be the richest woman on the planet. No one knew exactly how she made her money. Some surmised that if she was that rich only corruption could account for it. Others wondered if her wealth hadn’t been inherited; after all she had one of those suspiciously foreign mafia names. No matter how the money had been gained it was to be measured in the billions. Patreen had no known relatives. In fact, she had no known associates. Her wealth had made her isolated and suspicious of every one. She had forgotten how to make friends. Rumours circulated, clearly with no basis, as to whom or what would inherit her wealth. Then out of the blue came a newspaper advertisement. It was a full page. All her wealth was to be put in a trust for the single local high school student who had the prettiest garden. “And I will be the judge”. You can imagine! Parents and guardians stumbled over one another in an effort to create a pretty garden for their sprog. The amount of money spent on flower plants and seeds was astronomical. Not to mention the weed-eaters, and ride on mowers, and… You name it. One ridiculous father purchased four miniature horses and crafted a horn on each so they looked like magical unicorns wandering amongst the flowers. Patreen rambled around the thousand or so gardens. “I have made up my mind”. All assembled at the high school for the big announcement. Patreen stood on the stage before a nervous and hushed and sweating audience. “I have changed my mind,” she said. That was it. She walked off. Contact Author Back to Index Next Story Previous Story