“That plant died weeks ago, why haven’t you thrown it out? Every time I walk by it that corpse sheds leaves all over the linoleum floor!”
“Those alliterative tricks won’t work on me, sweetheart. This plant is my muse, my inspiration, my daily reminder of life’s precious precociousness, that we can never count on someone else providing us the light we need to shine or the nourishment we need to grow, that a life of purpose and fulfillment comes from that which we create within ourselves!”
She searches his face for a twitch, some sign of concealed mocking. “Really?”
A sunburst grin breaks over his face. “Nah. I just keep forgetting to water the damn thing. Throw it out if it bothers you that much.”
Bridging The Gap 