Succulents
One of the office buildings I work in when I go to Chicago has an office on the 28th floor with a newly designed reception area, featuring artifacts selected by a designer in order to display authenticity.
On the glass-smooth desk there is a tiny pot with a houseplant in it. A piece of paper taped down to the glass so as never to fly away reads, “Please do not water.”
Above it, there hang transparent wire cages, inside them the heads of succulents, without soil, subsisting on fluorescent light and the subtle mists that we exhale.
