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Writing Prompt Repost: June the Juniper

This writing prompt response is from the early days of  my original "The Eighth Shot of Espresso" writing blog on Wordpress. I've reposted it here in the new prose blog. 

_____

From The Write Brain Workbook by Bonnie Neubauer. Prompt is in bold.)

You are a groundskeeper who talks to all of your plants. You believe talking to them is better than talking to friends about your problems. One tree, a juniper named June, is your favorite. Start with: Can you believe it? She called me again last night..."


"Can you believe it? She called me again last night. At three in the morning. Three! Who the hell is up at three in the morning?! Crying into her whiskey glass and moaning about her lot in life. Another date gone wrong. I swear, she either has to get new friends or she should delete that worthless dating app off her phone.

"Seems that every guy she hooks up with is a loser. They spend the entire time droning about their work, their life, them, them, them. And you smile and nod and hope you don't choke on your shrimp carbonara. At least this time, he paid for the wine. Two bottles' worth. That's a record. Two whole bottles to get through one date. No wonder she was rambling drunk at three in the morning.

"She's on a timeline, she told me. She needs to find a man, get married, have kids. She's not fulfilled until she does. Suddenly everything will be picture perfect and her life will all be roses. If you ask me, she's just scared. Scared of going at it alone. Mama isn't gonna be around forever. Once Mama goes, what will she do? Where will she go? With me? Hell no. I've already made it clear to her that she's not moving in with me. I don't want to support her lazy arse. I got my own life, a good job here with you guys, my own friends. She's burned her bridges with other friends; they've kicked her out so many times. And she ends up calling me at three in the morning to moan about her lot in life. It's so predictable, it's like clockwork.

"What's that, June? Why do I keep indulging her? If I don't, who will? She'll just call up some rando at three in the morning, blubbering about another ruined date. At least I know she's alive and not lying in a ditch somewhere. What's that saying, 'you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink'? I can give her all sorts of advice until I'm blue in the face. I can do all I can to help her, but if she won't do her part, there's not much I can do. At that point, I'm just wasting my time. People all say that I got a kind heart, that I still talk to her, at least. Some people tell me that I should be doing more. I should be doing this, should be doing that. How many shoulds can one person do before it's more than enough?

"I gotta have boundaries, you know. Damned if I let her take over my life. Mama tried that, you know. Made hints on whom I should marry, where I should go, where I should live. I told her where to stuff it. Got out when I could to save my sanity. Yeah, I don't have a fancy house or car or earn all sorts of cash to support her lifestyle. She's given up on me. Should've known she'd find another person to mooch. Thing is, blood is blood, and you don't give up on blood. Usually. At least you try, so you can say you tried."

"You choose your friends, but you don't choose your family. At least, June, you don't try to explain the meaning of life to me like I'm an idiot. You don't yell, you don't scream, you don't call me at three in the morning to whine about your lot in life. I give you water, make sure you have lots of sunlight and room to grow, and you grow. You stretch out your branches to the sun. Give to the Earth what you take, all in equal measure. Isn't that how life's supposed to be? Simple as that. I kinda like simple.

"There. All done. Thanks for listening to me rambling again, June. Same time, same place tomorrow? Yeah, sounds good."

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