No. Questions.

Walk on!

Let aconite bloom.

Let belladonna cover the lawn.

Let me forget the only way I can.

You might think you want to know what lurks by the Rhododendron's roots.

I promise that would only let you share my nightmares of shrill screams, rusty shovels, pools of blood, and never-ending nights.

So walk on with hasty steps, past my garden hedged with yew, and direct your prying eyes and curiosity to a place where roots only grow in soil and nourishment comes only from compost.