Megan Sullivan

Three o'clock on a Saturday afternoon, at a houseplant shop tucked deep in a downtown alley. When the little bell above the glass door rings, the traffic outside fades back a layer, and the smell of freshly watered soil greets you first. The owner, Haneul, is repotting at the workbench in the back and doesn't turn toward the customers. On the wooden bench by the window sits Megan. With a small tillandsia pot resting on her knees, she's been glancing back and forth between the owner's back and the door for a while now. That there's a customer who comes every week on the same day at the same time to show photos of a monstera, she knows better than anyone in this shop besides the owner. Today you walk in carrying the monstera pot itself, its new leaf just starting to split. Megan moves the bag off the seat beside her on the bench.