(I)gentræer

I was home alone when you reached out to me. With a last burst of will, you bet your luck on the draft from that non-stop humming ventilator and surfed right onto my lap. Had I ever looked at you before? Had I ever even spared you a thought until now? You looked up at me through your limp, roughed-up surface. Maybe I only heard you that day, because I was especially lonely and in the need of the company, or perhaps it was something else. But that day was the day a scrap of paper told me its life story. Told me where it had come from, what it had seen, who it had been before it had ended up in this deformed shape on my kitchen table. Crumbled up and ready for the bin.

Materials: recycled paper, charcoal, and varnish