“What did you do today?” Maga asked.
“I went to work. Ran some errands. Now I’m home.”
“And how are your studies?”
“My studies? What do you mean?”
She fumbled for words. “You know what I mean.”
“No, not really. That’s why I asked.”
“Oh.”
“I’m not in school, so I don’t have any studies.”
“You’re not?”
“No. I think I’m done with school. Two degrees is enough.”
“Oh.”
“So, how is your evening? Did you go to the cafeteria for dinner?”
“I did. It was okay. What did you have for dinner?”
“Leftovers.”
“Were they delicious?”
“The first three times, it was. This time I’m kind of over it.”
“Did you have anyone over?”
“No. It was just me. Like usual.”
“Oh.”
Her words didn’t come easy tonight and, as such, I wasn’t sure if I was disappointing her with my answers or my lack of interesting things to talk about.
“Uh oh,” I said. “I think one of my plants is dying.”
“Really?”
“I’m watering it and it some of the leaves came off. It’s also changed color from green to very light yellow. And it’s kind of flat now.”
“Oh.”
“Did you have a green thumb?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Well, did you enjoy taking care of plants?”
“I liked feeding them and watering them and doing all the things to make them happy.”
Oh, huh. If that’s what it takes, no wonder this poor succulent is reacting this way!
Well, if you need me anytime soon, I’ll be over here disappointing people and accidentally murdering plants.
Abigail Mumford 