The ground was marked with tiny purple mounds. The tough skin of the pods was gone. The mounds were especially evident against the low green of the lawn Dapo kept religiously weeded and fed. He’d been proud of his grass, which had taken hours of care to maintain, to weed and trim and feed. Now it was ruined. There were perhaps a hundred raised purple lumps, or more, one for each fallen seed, he supposed. At the end of the grass, just before his garden shed, stood a cluster of unfeasibly tall saplings; three grouped closely as high as his knee. They were thin and wiry, bearing two or three small, heart-shaped leaves. The stems looked hardy as weeds. He walked across his lawn, bending to inspect them. Although predominately green, the purple tinge along their sides could only be seen when he turned his head right or left. Thin translucent hairs glistened like silk, covering the stem and leaves. He stood, sighing at the faint click in his knees, raising himself on his tiptoes to look at his neighbours’ gardens. He couldn’t quite see properly, so he went over to the Dentons’ fence, lifting himself so the wood rested beneath his arms. Two young saplings side by side in a sea of purple waves, the humps of mounds. Dapo let himself fall, doing the same on the Agyemens’ side. Shola was leant over four plants, a clustered group like his.

‘Hey,’ he called gently, not wanting to startle his neighbour. Shola turned as if expecting Dapo. He was boyish and slim, much like the saplings he pointed his darkened shears at. His glasses were thin wires, his bald head gleaming.

‘Hey. Interesting, right?’

Shola stood feet apart, looking down at the plants. The immaculate grass, which Dapo had long admired, was dotted purple.

‘Very.’

‘They’ve been growing like this for three days. Faster than any weed.’

‘Since the storm, right?’

‘Since the storm.’

‘What do you think it is?’

‘I have no idea.’ Glowing light reflected from the lenses of Shola’s glasses, masking his eyes, making him look blind. ‘I tried to look it up but no one knows. Lots of Twitter speculation, no answers.’

‘Figures.’ Dapo pulled himself higher. He was beginning to sweat. ‘And you all picked one up? You, Ikiyoma, the twins?’

Shola’s expression flattened. ‘Yes.’

‘Us too. We have three.’

‘Three?’ His neighbour’s face twisted. He shook his head, almost to himself, sighed loudly. Raised the shears. They studied the plants, swaying in the faint breeze, leaves nodding. ‘I have a good mind to chop them.’

Dapo opened his mouth, closed it. He didn’t know how to say what he felt. It was just a dumb plant.

‘I was about to when you looked over.’