Even after the voice stopped speaking I listened for it to speak again. After hours and days and years had passed I listened for some further words, yet all I heard were the faintest echoes reminding me: There are no others.
Madness string 111622
I thought the bamboo was dead... but part of me hoped I was wrong, that just because the foliage shrivelled up and died, there might still remain some life in the roots. So I kept watering it... but doubts nagged. So I dug it up. To check, you know? Turns out, I was right. It was still alive... except I probably killed it when I dug it up.