In Conference Room B, the fern in the corner thought of himself as Barnaby. No one else knew that, of course. To the humans he was simply Plant Number Three, a decorative object beside the screen. Barnaby found this insulting, especially since he had not been watered in three days.
Across the room stood Spike the cactus, who cared only for direct sunlight at exactly 11:15 each morning. The two of them communicated silently, as office plants often must.
Spike's morning message was brief: He's clicking his pen too much.
The comment referred to the man in the blue suit, who was clicking his pen through yet another presentation about synergy. At the front of the room, CEO Mr. Henderson paced beside a screen full of charts and repeated the word as if it were sacred wisdom.
Barnaby had attended many meetings, and they always ended the same way: people drank coffee, pointed at rectangles, used phrases like optimizing workflow, and made no decisions at all. From the plants' point of view, the whole business world was exhausting.
Then Sarah spoke up from the far end of the table. Instead of repeating everyone else, she suggested a Green Initiative for the office. Barnaby liked her immediately. Spike approved too, though he would never admit enthusiasm.
A few minutes later, Sarah reached for her glass while making another point and accidentally knocked it over. Water spilled across the table, ran off the edge, and soaked Barnaby's dry soil.
If a fern could cry with gratitude, Barnaby would have done so. Instead, he lifted his leaves with quiet dignity and sent one clear thought across the room.
Next CEO, he told Spike. No question.
The meeting ended, as always, with no real decisions made. But Barnaby no longer minded. He had water, Sarah had sense, and for the first time in weeks the future of the company seemed slightly less hopeless.
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