CULTIVATE
‘And this,’ Neale Michaels said, motioning with a sweeping gesture, ‘is our pride and glory, our green wall.’
A vertical lush-land crept its way up the exterior of the building, flowing and undulating like a pot of boiling soup. Shades of green, from the minty paleness of fur-tongued leaves to the vibrant yellow tips of petals poured down the surface of the wall. Windows, small glimmers of sunlight reflecting in the glass, peeped out from behind the vivid biology. A small seed unfurled in Bonnie’s stomach. She had never seen anything so beautiful within the perimeters of this small, unremarkable town.
Neale retracted his arm. He didn’t dress like an executive coordinator – at least, not like any that Bonnie had ever encountered. His soft flannel shirt and stonewashed jeans were calming. The gentle cadence of his voice made him approachable, along with his rounded copper face and bright, warm eyes. He was nothing like Bonnie’s last hard-lined boss; but
