I have tried to return to the garden many times to water the plants, but the greenhouse doors are barred. The windows locked. The vast oasis that we spent years watering has since desiccated. The flowers that use to bloom so vibrantly they lit up the room have turned brown and withered away. The trees that once touched the sky with its mighty veins have since fallen over, their trunks fragile and rotten. And so I wonder why will you not go receive the key I watched you throw away? Why will you not let me water our garden.