bolesmelissa
The plant bulb was crumbly in her hand. She had waited too long to plant it; postponed a necessary evil to take care of her sick mother-in-law and was now too late. It was this realization that turned her to tears. Maybe it was the death of Angela finally catching up with her, or maybe it was the fact that all of it was coming to fruition at once – losing her garden, losing Angela, slowly losing Sam. No matter, she sat in the dirt, tears making mud of the fertilizer on her jeans.
The bulb seemed to crumble in her hand. She'd waited too long to plant it; it was dead. She'd spent her last few months caring for her mother-in-law, but with her now gone, there was nothing to do but work in the garden.
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