Elara had given the smallest flower the largest label.
I bent to read it and nearly knocked the neighboring pot with my bag.
"Leave that by the door," she said.
I put the bag down.
Elara waited until I'd moved the strap out of the doorway as well. Then she handed me a clean cloth for the bit of soil I'd brushed onto the edge of the bench.
"I haven't touched a plant yet," I said.
"I'd like to keep it that way until you know where to stand."
I wiped the bench and took the place she indicated. From there I could see the small flower without leaning across its neighbor. The label gave its number and a date, followed by a short note in handwriting much more reliable than mine.
"Is the label meant to be bigger than the plant?"
"The plant doesn't need to read it."
I decided I had done enough talking for the first minute.
