Thornton's Walk

The border was lined with a diverse array of flowers, including roses, lilies, and a set of marigolds that Thornton, based on their muted tint, could tell were genetically modified to bloom year-round. 

Thornton quickly glanced at the front-left corner of the newly-minted garden. A great abundance of crimson roses sprouted from the ground there. Thornton's heart sank—the flower he planted just yesterday was unrecognizable amidst the throng. 

Floating above the whole display was the familiar figure of B-7269. It floated excitedly toward Thornton once his eyes made contact with its spider-like exterior. "Hello, Mr Gombar," it said. "The sudden increase in your serotonin levels yesterday was so remarkable that I decided to put in a fast-track request for your garden. I, along with a few other androids under my command, came and planted it overnight. Now you can avoid the pain and labour of creating a garden while still experiencing the joy its beauty brings. What do you think?"

Thornton nodded absently. "It's great…" he said hesitantly. "Thanks…" 

"Strange," said B-7269. "Your serotonin levels are resting at fifty-seven nanograms per millilitre. This is a normal level, but I'm surprised they aren't rising after seeing your new garden. Is there anything wrong, Mr Gombar? Did I plant the wrong flowers? Just say the word, and I can get this corrected straightaway."

Thornton sighed. The garden B-7269 had made was gorgeous. It was probably the most beautiful thing that currently graced the grey, muggy streets of Homasoro City. Thornton just wished that it could've been constructed by his own hands.