His Plant

The only thing left of him was the plant. They’d taken everything else. Emptied every cupboard. Every last scrap. It’s their right, of course. They’re family. Me, just a roommate. As far as they knew, anyway. A roommate. Maybe a friend. Nothing more, surely. No reason to think otherwise.

There in the kitchen windowsill, his plant. Thin, green and white. Spidery. They hadn’t known it was his. I didn’t tell them. I’ll keep it alive now that he can’t. I’m no good at that, but I’ll learn. I have to.

Keep it alive. Keep him alive, by my side.

Forever.

From Guest Contributor Louise Snape

Louise is a speculative fiction writer of Dutch and French origin and a graduate of Oxford Brookes University’s MA in Creative Writing. She dabbles in poetry, short fiction, and is currently working on writing her first YA fantasy novel.