The plant came home with me and sat quietly on the windowsill of my apartment. Life moved on. I watered it. Sometimes I forgot. I resented it a little, truth be told. My siblings flashed their new treasures while I dusted the leaves of something stubborn and ordinary.
Years later, on moving day, it was the last thing left in the room. Tired and annoyed, I decided not to drag one more box to the car. Instead, I knocked on my neighbor Carla’s door.
She grinned and took it like I’d just gifted her a puppy.
The Key in the Soil
Continue reading…
