enrich the soil (not everybody's goal)

When I die, I'd like to become...

Well.

Not very dignified if I refer to it as manure. But it is true.

I wish we were made of organic matter, benefitting the earth and even returning to it, instead of the clocks and the queen.

Do I love the queen? Undoubtedly, my loyalty runs deep as any.

(You may, of course, take that as you like.)

And you?

To your aftereffect, you put no meaning. You centered yourself. I mark you just so admirable.

I know I am the odd one.

Ethel...you were true. To the last crumbling ember.