[ot][spam][crazy][fiction]
Once upon a time there, was a tiny little [noun] that [verb phrase] and [verb phrase] and [verb hrase], all the time! In fact this [noun] would [verb phrase] so much, that one day [sudden event]! Can you believe it?
Once upon a time, there was a happy monk who lived in a cottage by a stream, in a wood. The only way visitors came to visit the monk was via a path the monk tended, that wound through the wood, eventually merging with a riverbed. People would find their way to the river, from a bridge or a park, walk along it until they reached the monk's path, which was marked with a special ornament, and then follow the path to reach the monk. By the time they arrived, they were in a different state of mind from when they left, and this was part of how the monk helped them.
The monk was young, maybe 26 years old, but had spent their years in studious dedication to tending for the spirits of the world. They had trained with other monks, and were still undergoing their training. The world needed monks, so this monk got a lot of visitors. Their primary resource for helping their visitors was the feelings of their heart, and the woods in which they lived.
-------- Once upon a time there was a delicate pansy growing in a beam of sunlight in nourishing patch of soil. Farther around the pansy, sometimes aliens and borg that had fractalized spacetime would be ripping things to shreds, but near the pansy everything was peaceful. The sunlight spoke to the pansy, saying things like "it's safe to grow over this way a little" and "there's sweetness and quenching water with this kind of growing". And the pansy spoke to the sun, the soil, and the spacetime aliens, saying things like "petals are beautiful for spreading more pansies", and "pansy life can sprout and sustain where it knows it can be".
The pansy sank their roots into the soil and let them grow, feeling out the paths of dampness, softness, and ion concentration.
Often breezes would blow. When a breeze would blow, the pansy would open the stomata on their leaves and stems, and breathe in the gaseous hormones and other things carried by the wind from neighboring plants. They would take deep inhales of what next community way the wind had picked up and drifted toward them. They would let the feelings and experiences of their neighbors soak into their phylum, and percolate down to their roots, where they would exchange chemicals with soil enzymes.
In the soil, the area of trust the pansy held with their closest plant neighbors, roots, fungi, bacteria, and so much else would exchange things in a mesh of solute density gradients.
Sometimes the pansy would feel _so_ excited about what was going on, that they would fill their leaves with extra sugar and water concentration so that they perked right up, and burst open their petals in a great flowery display!
At other times, they would stop pulling water from their roots, close their stomata, and relax while they rested and metabolised. During these times, the community's solutes would soak through the soil, bringing nourishment and resolving problems they had been realised to resolve days earlier.
Viola tricolor is a common European wild flower, growing as an annual or short-lived perennial. The species is also known as wild pansy, Johnny Jump up (though this name is also applied to similar species such as the yellow pansy), heartsease, heart's ease, heart's delight, tickle-my-fancy, Jack-jump-up-and-kiss-me, come-and-cuddle-me, three faces in a hood, love-in-idleness, and pink of my john. It has been introduced into North America, where it has spread. It is the progenitor of the cultivated pansy, and is therefore sometimes called wild pansy; before the cultivated pansies were developed, "pansy" was an alternative name for the wild form. It can produce up to 50 seeds at a time. The flowers can be purple, blue, yellow or white. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viola_tricolor
In the morning, the sun bursts over the horizon, and sunbeams begin filtering through dancing leaves at forest edges, casting shafts through misty rising dew. The pansy knows. They have been waiting with baited stoma, pulling water up from their roots, taking breaths of air. The sunbeams begin striking the leaves of the pansy, a kiss here, and splash there, and it tastes sweet and so filling. The morning birds and squirrels share in the excitement, singing and chattering as the wind speckles everyone with dancing shafts of brightness through sparkling leaves. The pansy is in their home with their loved ones, and their day is only just beginning.
-------- Mathemagician Rex waves a wand over an empty platter. With a burst of sparkles, the platter fills with numbers! "Dang, I wanted cookies," mutters Mathemagician Rex.
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Undiscussed Horrific Abuse, One Victim of Many