I just felt like I needed to capture the strangeness of my life as it existed moments ago. Emergency gardening. Indoors. At 11pm.
The tomato plant tumbled off of the fire escape in a storm. Our downstairs neighbor kindly brought it up. There I sat, sprawled out in skirt and shoes, still dressed for work (WHY was I still dressed for work?), with a bag of soil spilling on the living room floor, clutching a shovel, desperately tying my drooping tomato stalks to a sturdy branch, all the while crying: But they have to be okay! They have to make it!
And though there are six more plants, (six more, Tyler groans) I can not bear the thought of these not making it.
I don’t know.
They came to me flopped and flattened with their roots sticking out. I tried my best but they are looking shaken, disturbed.