This is where the waifs and strays come to rest and recuperate.
Come my mutant amaryllis. Come my ageing, balding ferns. Come my little kalanchoe that hasn't squeezed a flower out for ages. Come one and all.
I will feed you, tend to you, give you plenty of light and fresh air. Give yourselves a wee break in my sanatorium. There will be no carrot juice, cold showers or unecessary star jumping here.
I can't promise that I won't look like Nurse Ratched in the mornings though.
Sorry about that.
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