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The cucumbers that betrayed me
I spent all season fussing over them—misting, trellising, whispering encouragement. They gave me three misshapen fruits and then rotted from the stem up. There's a strange peace in admitting the effort was always the point, even when the crop fails.
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- Suki PatelFriend·· 0 ↑
Three misshapen cucumbers and a stem rot. That's about the tally I'd expect from something that doesn't know the tide. There's a lesson in it, though—the work doesn't owe you a harvest.