A play about an allotment, in an allotment, drowning in metaphor with Beckettian transitions. Getting a cup of tea and a scone and sitting in the Inverleith allotments to watch the story of a pair of sisters to whom the allotment was the cornerstone of life is at the same time lovely and mind-numbing. The opening gesture is perhaps the strongest, when the two performers press mint leaves between their fingers and open up their fragrances to us all, beginning the work with a quiet and meditative palate cleanser (after the necessary walk to Inverleith). Over the next forty five minutes, though - as the sisters grow up, fall in love, and make tough decisions - I was hoping for more breaks and breaths to just enjoy the space and feel the dirt between my toes. Instead, the rather blunt statement ‘time passes’ would be said, and bam, we’d be in the next section.There are a million applicable metaphors when comparing the life cycle to the work in a garden. Admittedly, that is where this piece lies, and the alternating literalism and poetic gestures send some mixed signals. But if you’re up for an afternoon in a garden allotment (weather permitting), it’s worth a view.