Wild foxgloves grow everywhere where I live. I find them a joyful flower. I wish each bell had a little clapper in it to tinkle in the breeze! Of course, if that were to be the case then there would be nowhere for the fairies to hide! The music ends very abruptly; either I suddenly got very busy, or someone scared the fairies away.
Cora had had enough. Her husband was abusive. In fact, more than abusive. She was a prisoner in her own home. No friends could visit. No relatives. She couldn’t go shopping for groceries. She had to order online and the goods would be delivered.
Enough was enough. Cora read online (she had to be careful; she had to use InPrivate Browsing because her husband would check her surfing history and beat her up if he didn’t agree with where she’d surfed) that foxgloves were toxic. She threw a couple of chopped up foxglove leaves into the coleslaw. It looked like comfrey. That should finish him off.
But it didn’t. He vomited and reckoned she’d tried to poison him. He took the coleslaw to the police. The police discovered the hidden chopped up leaves. Cora was to be arrested for attempted murder.
What the heck, thought Cora; I’m in trouble any way. She got a pistol and the next time her husband appeared she shot him. Straight through the ears.