[ there is starlight from up above, though not stars you recognize.

in the garden, by the plot the trowel is gone, replaced with a full-sized shovel. and a change has been made to the hand-written note.

but growing in the center, monstrously large almost like massive lengths of barbed wire, looped in on themselves and overflowing from the plot are thorned rose bushes. the buds themselves are stunted but on the wood are the most wicked, lush thorns you have ever seen.

. . . your chameleon is nowhere to be seen, but there's a doppleganger of you, instead. it repeats ]

Not so pretty.