The Rest Is Not Yours
Two women. One allotment. One tasted for death. The other can’t stop worrying. Between them, a bag of marrows.
The Rest Is Not Yours
What’s something you used to worry about but don’t anymore?
South London, August 1997. A drizzle that will not stop. Two women on adjacent allotment plots: one who tends cabbages in rows aligned with string, one who cannot find her string, her seeds, or the words to stop talking.
One used to sit at a table and eat and notice. The other worries about whether she turned her iron off on Monday.
Between them: a sunflower planted in defiance of a sign, a bag of marrows, and the quiet work of learning what you no longer need to carry.
A small, precise, unexpectedly funny scene about survival, silence, and trust.
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Bob Lynn | © 2026 Vox Meditantis. All rights reserved.
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