A year and a half without food and water. I hope the plant society never hears about this.
A Room Filled with Screams
By Scott D. Zachary Copyright 2004
Who knows how it happened? I don’t; nor do they. Maybe in one fell-swoop he dropped; Perhaps he was nudged over a period of time.
Nevertheless, he was unknowingly sentenced To a life without appreciable sustenance. Possibly the anti-cactae clan conspired, Cloaked in their hooded anti-prickles.
We’ll probably never know, But there he lay behind my desk. Only a hint of life remained. I should have heard his undeafening screams.
But, no. I was too concerned with my book And my lifeless programs. Now my little green buddy thrives, Living like a king on top of my coffee pot.
You got me right up to the end Scott! Excellent write/read, I save this one! I have one more thing to say:"I think you need another Corona & don't forget that slice of lime!" Have one on me, you deserve it...Peace, Ed & Rufuz (aka Woofie)
Reviewed by Kate Clifford (Reader)
Reviewed on January 27, 2004
This is one of those writes that could be read more then one way. In my apartment there are no more screams. I got fake plants until I find a home where plants are happy :-)
The fortunate inherit riches, prestige, positive notoriety. Those not so lucky bear legacies filled with poverty, infamy or, worse yet, the unhinged insanity and murderous urges of their ancestors.
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of another plants demise
cute
you know in your zen of hearts
he was calling yer name out!
thanks,
d.