Shattered

My houseplant committed suicide. It came out of the blue - or at least - I didn’t catch the signs. I’d put it on my window ledge so it could catch some sun - it appeared to be having a good time. I brushed it with my elbow - the wispy kiss of a butterfly and it leapt to its shattering end - I never will know why. The girl it barely missed, looked up - in accusatory alarm. “What if that had been a BABY!” I yelled, to keep her calm. We had a terra-cotta funeral - my roommates seemed really sad - and a reception where no plant-life was consumed. Lisa, acted quickly - she’s a fashionable 911 and at the funeral she buried the corpse, in a new pot, in her room.