Everything’s in boxes on a truck but you want to leave some evidence behind. She bought the ficus tree, the one you let die after she left. It looks like a stripped bicycle chained to a sidewalk signpost for five seasons, all spokes, rust brown and weaker than wind, filling the corner of the apartment with ruin.
Leave it for the new tenants to find so they can register a complaint with the landlord. “You said the apartment would be clean and ready for our move-in date but there is a corpse in the corner, a body left to rot.” Let them know that this is hallowed ground, a battlefield where a brave boy and girl fought for a love they once believed in, fought way beyond the point when the war was over.
Let them complain. Let them call the landlord to come and clean up the body. Someone needs to know that something died within these walls. Your love was too big, its destruction too important to be swept under the rug. There should be an inquiry. The people need to know.
Happy Plants And Rags Day!