Chapter 1
There was a flower, beautiful and one it's kind. People adored it, admired it. They tended to its needs and watered it daily.
They all loved the flower. Yet, however the flower was neither happy nor sad, just empty. It didn't understand why, even though it was loved, it felt a void, unexplainable.
Then came a man. Simple, forgetful, different from the rest. And the man was given the task of watering the flower daily.
So he watered it diligently everyday, nothing unusual. Only later did his forgetfulness get the best of him and the watering of the flower became disrupted, sometimes the flower stayed with no water for a day or two.
In the emptiness, the flower began to think, and question for the first time. "Who is this man that forgets to water me, the most precious flower and one of a kind?".
But nothing changed, the forgetful man and his disruptive watering.
Soon, the flower began not feeling a void, but the feeling of wanting something. Wanting the watering more now.
Eventhough the nature of a flower is to be watered, it craved it like an ecstasy, like the feeling of transcending the skies, when it got watered.
There was nothing different about it. The water was still water, but now it seemed so much more to the flower. And, as if the void didn't even exist in the first place, the flower began awaiting the man's watering every minute of the day, to help it from its suffering and set its soul on fire and ecstasy.
The man had no hate against the flower, nor any love, just simply the act of watering and now the flower saw it as the most beautiful form of love as ever. Something that provided it salvation from its void.
Now the flower fell in love with the man. The only man she ever truly loved. She fell in love.
Such was the story of a precious flower and its forgetful water-person. Such was the story of its salvation. Such was the story of the flower's love for the man. Such was the flower's true love.
