The garden was very much like her aunts, Luci decided. She looked with interest at the long, narrow space nestled behind the house as she made her way towards the slider swing tucked under the blossom-weighted branches of the magnolia tree.
Some of it she vaguely remembered from those long-ago visits, like the cement cherubs, urns, and gargoyles that Miss Hermi was so fond of inserting in the middle of the flower beds. But the brick pathway, winding between those randomly placed flower beds, circling the thick trunks of magnolia, oak, and cypress and passing close to the bougainvillea before finishing at the small patio crowded with metal and wicker patio furniture, seemed new. And of course it all looked smaller than she remembered.
Only one small corner had escaped the ordered disorder
