Skip to content

Water Me


Water Me

“Water me” said a nicely written note that was attached to the flower pot. The waitress wasn’t sure what to do. If she doesn’t water the flower pot she surely wouldn’t be allowed to finish the shift and would never exit the restaurant. If she waters the flower pot it would surely continue its monstrous growth and block the door and she would never make it out of the restaurant. Such shameful luck, such shameful luck, said the poor waitress and sat at the bar. “Water me” she meant to say to the barman, her friend from the Neo-Kantian Philosophy class, and in a burst of resourcefulness stopped herself. If she manages to keep on feeling small and miserable enough she may just be able to sneak from underneath the door without anyone noticing her absence.


From → Otherness, Tel Aviv

Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

The Blog

The latest news on and the WordPress community.

%d bloggers like this: