THE GARDEN SHED RADIO STATION
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Every evening at six, the garden shed broadcast a weather report to the rest of the garden.

“Wind from the west. Slugs remain optimistic.”

The tomatoes listened closely. The old wheelbarrow said it preferred the earlier presenter, who had been a watering can.

One evening the shed announced a lost-property item: one glove, green, left-handed, found near the beans.

The following morning there were seven gloves by its door, none green and all right-handed.

“Good response,” the shed said. “Poor accuracy.”

By August it had added requests, birthdays for seedlings, and a late-night programme of rain on the roof.

The only complaint came from the compost heap. Too much talk, it said. Not enough decay.

— DaisyChainReaction