You look around and notice many other blades of grass, and they all look just like you. You see a [[tree]] in the middle, and a [[flower]] further away.
You look up to the tree. There's seemingly nothing special about this tree but you [[stare]] at its trunk.
You look further up, surrounded by [[blue]]. What a beautiful [[sky|air]]!
It smells [[crisp]].
You wake up. It's [[dark|ground]]. The [[world->grass]] is moist.
You reach your [[fingers]] up and out of the [[ground]].
"If you wanna become a tree, just drink a lot of water," your pal Swifty told you. You keep drinking water, but still don't feel very big. Or strong. You [[stare]] up toward the [[sky|blue]] and at the [[tree]] every day, waiting for your day to come.
Your thin [[fingers|blades]] break the [[soil|ground]].
flower in a [[green]]
virgin
chaste
celibate
pure
uncorrupted
undefiled
innocent
flawless
You fall in [[love]].
Ground. Home. Suddenly you want to crawl back into the dark warmth, but it's too late. You can't move. The only way to [[grow|fingers]] is up.
A blade of [[grass]] next to you warned you about Michael the worm. "He's a greedy creature who loves to eat us [[greenlings|green]]," they said. "Be careful!"
Albert was the nicer worm, they said, but worms are worms. They tickle your roots and squirm around. The other blades look at these creatures in disgust, but somehow you find yourself... jealous.
If I could squirm around, I could talk to the [[flower]].
You wish you could be an apple [[tree]]. To [[grow|water]] big and strong, and to see your sweet fruits roll far away to lands you might never know.
You see an [[apple]] a few yards away, half-eaten, rotting, with [[two|Michael]] [[worms|Albert]] squirming out of it.
What were you, a blade in [[a million|green]], to this flower?
Nothing. Embarrassed of your bold admiration, you feel the urge to snuggle back [[underground]] to safety where no one could see you [[blush|blue]].
green
green
green
green
too much green
you wanted to be [[anything but green|blue]].
There must be more.