You must live. You must remain here. You are a tie to the past. You give a sense of belonging to the earth. The woman that lives here loves you. She has lost so much. Her children are gone. Her husband is dead. The woman across the hall who she thought was a friend has betrayed her. Like a junior-high rival, she has stolen the heart of the gentleman she fancied. With just a glance it seemed.
One day she was sitting across from him, sharing an old memory. A school dance. Then the nurse came by with meds and broke the spell. The next day he was walking with her. He let her change the channel. He didn’t even like that show. Too sappy, he said. Now his chair was wheeled up next to her.
What more does she have to live for?
The heat must have been turned up too high. The cleaning staff put you too close to the vent under the windows when they did the room. Then left. Your leaves are curled. In agony. In defeat.
Don’t give up. You must live. She must live.
