Wiggy let out a funny cat sigh. Cat happiness. He sniffed the dirt and turned over, his belly in the air. One flower in front of me seemed from a fairy tale—white bells with tiny green dots like hand-painted china, hanging from a tall stalk. I touched it. “What is it?” Jack said a Latin name but the name wasn’t what I was asking for—I meant, how can this be? How can this grow from the sidewalk? I touched its pointed petals. “It looks like a lantern for a fairy ball.” He smiled. “I like that one, too. It’s a perennial, so it will die back in a week or so and then bloom again next year.” “A
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