#63

“This orchid is going to die,” was what her friend said.

Not something like “if you can take care of a plant, you can take care of yourself,” or “focus on the orchid and breath when you feel too overwhelmed,” or “I wanted to get you something beautiful because you’re sad.” Nothing like all the clichés that ran through her mind when she saw the orchid next to her makeshift bed in her friend’s home and looked up at her friend in the doorway and stammered, “an orchid? I don’t think I can take care of this…I always kill orchids.”

“This orchid is going to die.” Her friend said. “No matter what you do, I guarantee you it will die. But you have to live with it while it’s alive. That’s the deal.”

The next morning when she woke up, the orchid’s three snake-like faces looked at her dumbly. She refused to feed them. But she would talk to them if only to pass the time since time was all she was instructed to give.