His reconnoitre had led him, through a vegetable patch given up to weeds, into what had been a garden, its single remaining flower bed marked with seed packets that told what its several rows contained.

NEWYORKER: The Woman of the House

They looked down at the solitary flower bed, at the bright-colored seed packets marking the empty rows, each packet pierced with a stick.

NEWYORKER: The Woman of the House