[Rosalynd]
“Am I in a jungle?” I wonder internally as I blink awake, staring up at sunlight filtered through monstera leaves and palms. My head feels like smashed jello. Cradling it gently with one hand, I sit up rubbing my eyes with my other hand. Slowly rotating my neck, the pain is so intense that if I move too quickly, I am certain that my brain will leak out of my ear.
I don’t know where I am, but this place is beautiful. Someone has worked hard to make this room into a paradise of growing things. The room is made entirely of glass, like a greenhouse large enough for a house, chairs, and several shelves. Tendrils of flowering vines and offshoots of spider plants hang from overhead. An assortment of flowers, some I know and others I do not recognize, grow in colorful, hand-turned ce
