NANA

I fed a plant a dose of cigarette ashes. I named the plant Nana.

If Nana could talk, I’m pretty sure she’d have qualms about it. But she cannot, and for that I am grateful. Despite what I may be held accountable for, I hope she will be healthy, and alive, and most importantly, sane.

I hope I’ll still be sane, too, at the end of the day.