Won’t Die

I threw out the jade plant I bought the day we moved away.  Like our towels and our bed, harbouring bad energy, belonging to another life – I didn’t want to move it to this apartment anyway.  It seemed stupid not to.  None of this was the plant’s fault.  It came.

I treated the plant badly.  I kept it in the most hostile environment I could think of.  I neglected to water it, on purpose.  Not like the African violets: dead because I forget.  Still, it would not die. 

I threw it out, and I guess that means something.

What do you think?

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