the plants keep growing. they ain't seen sunshine in how long? six years? we went under in '78, right? so yeah, six years and change. they used to bother me. i was so mad at Elle when she brought them with her. i remember asking her over and over for the first few weeks, "why did you bring them? did you think they would help us somehow? more than, say, a bucket of beans or grain?" it was like a worm in my brain that would never squirm out. |
and then they bothered me because they reminded me of her. she was gone, but they were still there. climbing up the walls, straddling concrete in search of life.
they used to bother me, but now i know better. she's gone but she's in the plants, givin' 'em life. making sure they keep me company when the days bleed together too much. when the mirror shows me a man i don't recognize and i start thinking the revolver might do the trick on him. when i have to recalculate the rations another time to extend the length of this slow, withering death ... but the plants keep growing.