typha tender_square name of a car my mother insisted i test drive, some kind of environmentally friendly model that exceeded my current hybrid. it was lent to me by a faculty member who studies the science of mind and behavior. she asked that i stay close to campus in my journey. the drive in the white sedan took me a home. i studied shelves of curio with my mother, reaching for a magnificent vase of the emerald city. she said that my paternal grandmother always knew i loved vases. stalks of cattails were placed in another nearby vase and i rubbed their furry cylinders with my fingers. in the bathroom, a cat lazed on the floor mat at my feet. i picked what i thought was fur from the floor, but may have been rhizomes shed, as i urinated in the toilet, my hand holding a mound of cloud. after, i was searching for the key to the car. i went out back to a tilled garden plot, mud awaiting magic, and couldn't find the metal that would unlock and start. inside, it was beneath a clipboard sitting on a stair. my mother and i drove the car back to campus. i entered a building and tossed the key ring to my former therapist in the hallway. dangling from the chain was a hunk of rose quartz, just like my mother carries in waking life. my therapist nodded to me and stepped back into her office. 230329 what's it to you? who go blather from