Mr. Luden snipped a dead leaf. "Does the rose ask why the rain came?"

He handed her a cutting. "Plant this. See what happens."

Why is this line so slow? → What now? (Breathe. Wait. Or leave.)

But I can absolutely write an original short story inspired by the theme of that title — questioning the habit of over-asking "why" when what we really need is forward motion.

"I stopped asking why," she said.

Clara was a champion asker of "why."