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Little Blossom

Little blossom, the world is dying but there is hope.

Sitting in the car on a forever trip from a polluted cesspool of trash piles rivaling Everest, clouds which never turn white, to a clean, breezy, green and lush land full of rivers and mountains.

Sitting in the car with a decision. But first, seeing through the car window – fancy furniture turned back into trees, trash piles replaced by bins. Awful stench, a cool breeze.  Poisoned dark clouds whiter every mile. People coughing, beginning to smile.

The decision you have to oversee: you stopped at the vendor to get a Pepsi. It was refreshing, but now the can is empty.

Leaving one reality for another. The empty can, once full, begins to burden.

What to do with this can, sitting in the car looking through the window?

Little blossom, the world is dying but there is hope.

So, make the decision. Is it wise to make a mess in a clean land? I mean, it is only a can. How can the stunning beauty of this vast land be affected by one measly empty can? Yet, it may trigger others to do the same. This one can may be two tomorrow, it may be a pile next week, who knows, maybe in a year’s time, it may rival what you traveled to avoid. But what are the chances of that ever happening, hmm?

Or, you can always just add to the mountains of trash of the land you wish to leave. It won’t cause any damage; it will be like placing a fish in the ocean, insignificant to the human eye. However, it could act as the final nail in the coffin- the straw which broke this already hurt camel’s back- the last addition to this mountain before it collapses and takes with it the homes of the people who live nearby. But you never know. Not implying it won’t happen but it might not happen.

Little blossom, your decision?

You wish to not throw at all?

Little blossom, the world is dying but there is hope. You are proof.

Recommend0 Simily SnapsPublished in Fiction, Poetry

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