Monstera Deliciosa

There was an economic crisis and the refugee crisis in Syria and there was the climate crisis that had been pushed aside for now.

Just as the leaf reached out from the top of the cupboard to press the off button, the video game went up a level. Rainbow patterns, stars and colours morphing into one another. The machine man marched through the bathroom and his French accent was astounding! I looked down at the floor and the oil was spilling into the water, bugs squiggle along.

Matt looks me straight in the eye.

Am I dead?

No, you’re not dead.

Are you dead?

No, I’m not dead either. We’re alive.

The white girl sitting across the fire doesn't stop talking about her dose of antidepressants to a pit full of people. Maybe she has a chemical imbalance in her brain but it seems like she’s just looking for attention.

I'll swing back in my chair, kick up my legs and fall back into the bath. The water splashes up and causes a tidal wave in the Pacific ocean.

It’s 17 years from now.

They're all under water. All the islands. Too many people taking bathes, fucking to make babies, eating tuna. Climate changed killed the humans and the politician throws his head back and laughs because we are finally out of debt.

I turn to my right and ask him how long it takes to boil an egg. The thought of my Monstera Deliciosa trickles into the back of my brain but he doesn’t answer my question. Maybe he doesn’t know. I don’t think he was ever very good at egg boiling anyway.

17 years. That's a long time. Much longer than the life of a goanna.

But it's something you gave me to focus on. I couldn't. I never could. All I could do was tap my foot on the deck and pick my bottom lip but it started to bleed because the heater had made it so dry and the thought of it had me think too much.

So I smiled at you, and I sat for a minute. I forgot about it for a while. Forgot about the bleeding lips and I sighed and pretended it was never there in the first place.