Jenkins in Spring

“Jenkins!” said a muffled voice. It was followed by a bone-rattling sneeze. Muller pushed his way through the leaves to peer rheumy-eyed down at Carter Jenkins. “What’s all this… this foliage about anyway?”

“Sorry, sir,” said Jenkins. He shook his head, setting his branches shaking. “It’s springtime. I always get lots of new growth.”

“Your productivity is down five percent.”

“I haven’t gotten enough sun…”

“Now, Jenkins, we’ve been more than understanding about your… condition, but- is that a pear?”

“Looks like, Mr. Muller. I’d hoped for citrus again, but-“

“I do like a nice pear in brandy,” Muller mused.