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Uncertain Spinach – Part 4

The bay was empty when he woke up. Because he was no longer struggling the intertwining leaves had loosened their deadly grip and were now supporting him in a way more reminiscent of mattress than tomb. Gingerly he pulled himself into a better position and then began to roll slowly, cautiously towards the side. Eventually he made it to the edge of the crate and was able to haul himself out. He stood for a moment retching and gasping for air before glancing fearfully at the worthless crate of greenery and scuttling away. Out in the street he didn’t even notice when people stopped to stare as he hurried by. His own attention was fixed firmly on the recent past.
“Oh my lord! Isn’t that Chernobyl grade?” a smartly dressed woman appeared in front of him causing him to jerk upright. As he swerved to avoid her he caught sight of himself in a shop window. He was covered in spinach. It stuck out of his hair and clung to his clothes; it dangled from his ear and drooped over his belt. He looked as if someone had planted a yeti. As he stared at himself in the window the woman leaned forward. Neatly she collected some of the stray spinach and popped it into her mouth.
“Oh. No, sorry.” Disappointment flashed across her face. “It really looked like you were covered in the real stuff there. Should have known of course: you’d need a bodyguard to be out like that!”
She laughed, looking slightly embarrassed as she walked off. Lee stood, staring after her for a moment and then turned back to his reflection in the shop window. His face a mask of shock and horror, he lifted his hand to pull at a large leaf of spinach that was curled into his chest. He threw it to the ground, jumping away as though it was likely to turn and attack him. He stared at it for a moment before suddenly starting to tear at the spinach that was clinging to every inch of him. He stamped frantically at each piece as it landed in front of him. By the time he had calmed down enough to stop leaping around and had turned his attention to his hands, most of the other occupants of the street had moved well away. His skin was scratched from his earlier struggle, but still looked fairly healthy. He checked his pulse and pressed a hand against his forehead before continuing his journey.

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