Why Don 't You? Essay
"He can!" Martha burst out, her voice reverberating off the collection of porcelain teapots she was organizing for the third time that day. "He is coming! We’ve seen the signs!"
Have we? Or are we just that desperate to feel connected to him?
"We’ve had to move the figurines back to their proper places two times now—explain that one why don’t you?"
Well, Nate has been by to clean a few times. Perhaps he—
"Oh shut up!" Martha spat, her tone harsh. She adjusted the last of the teapots to her liking and took a step back to appraise the full image of their arrangement upon the mantel. "There," she said with an evaluating tilt of her head. "That’s more like it."
After one last visual sweep of her handy work, she ambled to the kitchen, passing dozens of untamed houseplants along the way. Actually, saying they were "untamed" would be an understatement. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the smoke-stained ceiling above them, that area of the house would have been a more convincing semblance of the jungle.
Her son, Nate, had made some remark about her needing to space the plants out during his last visit, and Martha had attempted to explain to him the reason for their placement, but he wasn’t persuaded. The thought of his ignorance still upset her if she found herself musing over it for too long. How had she managed to raise such a foolish and disconnected person? The answer to her specific arrangement of the plants was completely obvious. The…