Magdalena: Nightfall

As Magdalena slept, she dreamed that her plants grew. The Wandering Jew and the fuchsia reached out to each other, tentatively at first, but then they intertwined and locked themselves together. Purple and orange proliferated and expanded downward and outward, overspreading the walls, extending tendrils to the ceiling and floor, enveloping the living room in a swelling tide of foliage.

Under the window the tide ebbed slightly, parted, and revealed a disembodied head, flowers tangled in its hair. It was Craig's. Magdalena jerked violently and woke up, disoriented. She turned on a light and looked around searchingly--no plant incursions, no dead body parts. She checked the living room--the same. Her two hanging plants barely brushed against each other, as if shy. Everything was quiet, and almost shockingly normal after the dream.