Flowerless

There was once a time when every flower that covered the earth died. The grasses and the trees, the shrubs and the weeds lived on, but the blooms ceased. 

    Some time passed before the cessation of florescence grew so significant as to achieve awareness by the general public. After the shock and awe began to fade, the world grew angry. How dare the flowers stop! Didn't they know the ugliness they've caused? They should think of the travesty, the nasty, dusty byways with nothing to brighten the eye, the dirty gardens with their torpid shoots, the blandness of it all... How dare they wallow in so selfish a fashion!

    Thus were the cries of the beings of the world. And the more they cried, the more the earth refused to blossom.

    But it was a little girl who sat by a flowerless shrub, and held it's leaves between her hands, and asked the question: why.

    Then the earth told her.

    About the sorrow, the brokenness, and, finally, the mourning. For the world had become heavy with an unbearable sadness.

    But that was alright, the little girl said. It was okay, she said, to be sad. Then the little girl dug her fingers into the earth, and shared a bit of the burden.

    The earth sighed, then. A long one that cast a gust about the whole of the world.

    And after all the air had been expelled, the earth began to bloom.

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