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Leave the Far Hedge
Lila wanted the courtyard finished before the landlord's noon walk. He had called the hedges wild, and he noticed what he could see from the gate. She started there, with the shears, and the front came away in clean handfuls. Sparrows flew up, complained, and landed on the bins. The line looked straight. She was not late yet, and she meant to keep it that way.
The far corner was darker, pressed against the back wall. She reached in. A blackbird burst out of the leaves, so close that a wing brushed her wrist, and sat on the wall scolding. Low in the crossed branches sat a small cup of dry grass. Her arm was still raised. The next cut would have taken the top off that cup.
Mrs. Shah opened her window on the ground floor.