I spoke to you a few days back about the shocking discovery of the dead houseplant. Well I’ve only just discovered that other fruit trees in both front and back of your yard are also diseased. It places me in such a somber state and I wonder if I could have done anything to prevent this or perhaps is this your way of reaching out to us about the dismal state of your home or our family relationships.
It’s quite eery seeing those tough dark emerald leaves of your orange tree turn into delicate white messes, curling in on themselves and creasing up like crushed linen; rendering the bountiful fruit inedible because of this. There is a definite state of change happening, obviously the changes from within the walls but there is something now lingering in the air, a macabre sense of disease confined outside the walls, lurking grimly around and informing us of it’s displeasure.
My ego likes to assume that it’s not content with my brother calling this his; that it is your way of telling me that it is I that you’ve chosen to reside here, that I am the best person to take care of your precious home. Then again the other grim voice from within pikes up with a chant, “It is you who is not welcome here”
Which one do I believe?