what you sow

[katrea]

On the doorstep of a townhome in New York City, a basket is placed.

The doorbell rings.

There are footsteps, and then there are not.

Comments

[pythbox]

"Okay."

[katrea]

Unbasketgirl swings her legs and looks around the kitchen thoughtfully. "What if I don't have parents after all?"

[pythbox]

"You have somebody," says Elizabeth. "The question's if Chris can find them or not."

[katrea]

"What if they aren't findable, then?"

[pythbox]

"Then I guess you stay."

[katrea]

"Here?"

[pythbox]

"Yeah. If you want," says Elizabeth.

[katrea]

"Okay," shrugs unbasketgirl.

[pythbox]

"I don't know for sure if Chris will let you stay forever," she feels compelled to mention, "but I bet she will."

[katrea]

"Where else would I go?"

[pythbox]

"I dunno."

[katrea]

"What kinda places are there in the world?"

[pythbox]

"...What kinds of kinds do you mean?" she wonders. "Like houses and schools, or like towns and cities?"

[katrea]

"I don't know. All the kinds. Places to go if I can't just stay here."

[pythbox]

"Well, you could go to somebody else's house, I guess," she says. "I don't know who, though."

[katrea]

"Is it nice here?"

[pythbox]

"Yeah."

[katrea]

"Okay." The unbasket girl yawns.

[pythbox]

"...Do you want to go to sleep?"

[katrea]

"Yeah, I think so."

[pythbox]

"Okay. You could sleep on the couch, it's comfy. Or in your basket."

[katrea]

"I don't think I want to be in the basket."

[pythbox]

"Okay," Elizabeth says agreeably.

[katrea]

Unbasketgirl lets herself down carefully from the chair, falls over anyway, gets up, and toddles to the couch, onto which she climbs without incident.

[pythbox]

Elizabeth shoves the basket off the couch, leaving the blanket on the cushion where it flopped.