“You are nearly impossible to buy a present for,” Jack Thorpe complained.
“I’m not into material things,” his sister, Claudia, replied.
“Could you be? Just once? At least long enough for me to get you a Christmas gift?” Jack implored.
“I enjoy the experience of shopping with you more than the things we buy,” Claudia explained. “The adventure of finding odd things or scoring a serious bargain. Having a shopping trip lunch with you at one of those restaurants that serves ethically sourced junk food.”
“It’s just that for the entirety of my life you have always found me the perfect holiday gift,” Jack complained. “The best gift I ever got you was that lavender sweater. I have yet to top that gift.”
“I still wear that sweater,” Claudia smiled. “That was the year I got you the toy robot.”
“The chunky robot with the squeaky mid-section and the light up eyes,” Jack announced spontaneously. “I loved that thing.”
“You are so attracted by odd things,” Claudia observed.
“Speaking of which,” Jack smiled, as he slowed down the car, nodding towards a van, parked on an abandoned lot. Plants and colorful banners surrounded the van. “I spy something with my eye.”
“Something sketchy?” Claudia replied, noting the very transitory vibe of the van.
“Something leafy,” Jack corrected. “You’re awesome with plants. Maybe I just found your gift.”
“I can always do with more leaf babies.”
“You have so many plants you could sell tickets for a tropical plant tour in your spare bedroom. But you always seem to have space for a few more.”
Claudia looked at the van’s verdant wares as Jack parked their car. She read a sign listing the sole proprietor’s inventory. “Whoever it is selling plants here, they claim to have skeleton flowers.”