The Verdant Case

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It started with my toes. A faint gradient of evergreen. Not an ordinary green—an evergreen, to a moss green, to a honey dew green—blending into my normal skin colour. I noticed in the shower, wriggling my toes in the puddle of water pooling at my feet.

A few days later, when the green was halfway up my legs, the doctors had concluded it was not a disease. I was not being pranked. It was permanent all right. All the scrubbing had proven that much.

The only thing left to do was hire a detective.

"What is the mystery?"

"I'm turning green."

"That's ridiculous."

"Believe me, please do." I insisted, pulling up my pant leg.

"How strange," they leaned forward with their magnifying glass.

"I can't see anything unusual. Have you stepped in any mushroom rings lately?" I shook my head. I always made sure to steer clear of those.

"Have you seen any rainbows in the last few days?"

"None of that, it's been clear skies."

"And the doctor said there was no biological problem?"

"No diseases, no deals with the fae." I reported.

"I see, I see," the detective hummed, jotting down some notes. "I'm afraid I can't help you, but I know someone who can." The detective handed me a business card, before seeing themself out.


The following day I visited the address on the card. When I touched the sliding door I saw that my fingers where a nice shade of reseda chartreuse. I found myself surprised that I didn't seem to mind it. Inside I was greeted by a pleasant tea house. A woman in a black apron bowed stoically and lead me to some floor seating by the window. I was handed a menu by a white egret. "Why thank you." There was only one thing on the menu. "I guess I'll have this then."

A few moments later, a wizened old man came to sit across from me. He brought a tray of fried ginseng and a bowl of matcha tea. Taking my hands into his rough, calloused ones, he turned them over slowly. "We are surrounded by nature. Sometimes, in this modern world, people try to shut it out. Others of us, unknowingly, choose the forest." He said, nodding along to the words. "You like the colour?" I nodded, hesitantly at first, but more vigorously, the more I thought.

"Yes!" He patted my hands with a carefree smile.

"Eat up, ginseng is good for the health."


The tea house had been wonderful, but very unhelpful. I don't know what the detective thought I would learn there. Now I was positively emerald. Veins of myrtle and mantis snaked like a valley of rivers up my neck. My hair stuck out like the fronds of forest ferns. The more I looked in the mirror the more I liked it. Would I ever get to the bottom of this? I would have liked to know, at least, why I was turning greener every day.

I had become a regular at the tea house, aptly named "The Egret House". The mornings paper was laid out on my table, freshly warm and ironed. On page 25, there was a very interesting report titled "The Verdant Case". It read:

"On the 16th of March I came across a curious individual with evergreen toes. Now the shade is very important and I had consulted a spectroscopist..."

Underneath it was written:

"Don't lie Dr. Faust. We thought your practice was going well enough. Do you really have to make stuff up for publicity?"

And underneath that, was written:

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