“Ah, youth,” said Stella. “He’s lucky I’m not a decade younger. My line is drawn at thirty years young, though.”
“Well, it is the apocalypse…” Mercury waggled her brows suggestively.
“Interesting thought,” murmured Stella as she turned back to the counter with the shrouded vegetables. With a flourish she pulled off the dishcloth.
Every vegetable had sprouted.
Hilary gasped. With a hand that trembled, she reached out and stroked the green that spiked the top of the carrot.
“’Kay, don’t be freaked,” said Mercury. “We can all do it—and we feel just fine.”
Hilary turned, eyes washed in tears, to Mercury. “Freaked? I am astounded! Delighted! Amazed!” The doctor laughed joyously. “This is miraculous!”
“It is,” said Stella solemnly. “It is also how we are going to survive.”