The shed sits there, filled to the brim with garden stuff…dirty, rusted, bent, metal tools designed specifically to rip nature apart. The windows are frosted with decades of oily dirt and blocked by handmade shelves falling dangerously to the left. Containers of pesticides, dried out paint and gasoline decay in perfect harmony.
The groundskeeper has not been here in ages, only the insects and rodents have access now. One day the shed will split open when the shelves finally fall against the weakened corner and only then will the truth be discovered. Mr. Greene stored much more than his garden supplies in the metal box behind the lawn mower.
Mrs. Greene’s first-born child will no longer be missing.