The Bark and Below It

I broke my favorite flower pot today. I needed something out of my closet. Now, my closet operates similar to the classic cartoon cliche, where it's absolutely packed to the brim with random objects and things that just don't belong anywhere else. A veritable booby-trap of knick-knacks, old toys, arts supplies, gewgaws and bad pornography. Usually something falls out, but it's generally something prett resiliant or resistant to an emergency crash landing on the creaky hardwood floor. This time it was my favorite flower pot. It's been waiting, dreaming to have something planted in it ever since my last plant, Niel, died. All that time waiting. Only to be greeted with an unexpected and sudden death. Deep.