Ianto frowned and glared accusingly at the small green frond. He didn’t know where they came from, but every spring it was the same. One day there would be nothing but bare concrete, the next day little green shoots would have appeared overnight, peeping out of cracks and crevices around the Rift pool.
It didn’t matter how inhospitable and unsuitable a place might seem, there was always some kind of plant that would find a way to grow there.
Sighing, he fetched a kneeling pad and his tools. Weeds. They’d end up taking over the Hub if they weren’t stopped.