chuuya puts down the bag of groceries deliberately noisily. youre not dead - chuuya convinces himself of this with a kick to your knee - nods to the lazy “ouch” that followed.

he notices a problem - or a curse - when your place gets a bit occupied and looks like a greenhouse. a dried out fishbowl, even.

plant roots left holes in the walls and cracks in the floor. theres nothing alive - this is all ivy and spikes with a tiny ocher flower in the corner.

the radiator is drowning in grass, reeds curiosly peek out from the bathroom. the nature runs freely around here.

"..is this a decorative way to bury yourself alive?"