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“My eyes filled with tears. "Ruth, there's flowers in my salad." Ruth smiled. "Those are nasturtium. They're beautiful, aren't they?" "Can I eat them?" She nodded. I shook my head. "I hate to eat this. It's like a work of art." Ruth sat down next to me. "That's part of how starved you've been. I think you're afraid this is the last beautiful thing that's going to happen to you, and you want to hold onto it." "How did you know that?" Ruth smiled. "I'm your neighbor. It's a wonderful salad, Jess. I made it just for you to enjoy. But the next one will be luscious, too.” — Leslie Feinberg
My eyes filled with tears. "Ruth, there's flowers in my salad."
Ruth smiled. "Those are nasturtium. They're beautiful, aren't they?"
"Can I eat them?" She nodded. I shook my head. "I hate to eat this. It's like a work of art."
Ruth sat down next to me. "That's part of how starved you've been. I think you're afraid this is the last beautiful thing that's going to happen to you, and you want to hold onto it."
"How did you know that?"
Ruth smiled. "I'm your neighbor. It's a wonderful salad, Jess. I made it just for you to enjoy. But the next one will be luscious, too.