User:Ajay.rindani1/sandbox

I was rollicking in sadness through the desert, my brow sweating and rusted purple. My lips were parched. I couldn't breathe. Not a plant was in my vision as I rolled like a barrel of wine through the sand dunes of emptiness. Deoxygenated gold grain graced the skies as I rolled. Then I hit a large lump - a shriveled baobab tree.

The baobab stood, tanned trunk but lifeless leaves, gut filled with water, underneath a great sand dune. What could be on the other side? Even so, I had no time for thoughts - my breathing was deep and my lungs were half empty every gasp. I clambered up the tree to breathe in the transpiration of the baobab leaves' stomata. I flung open my backpack and unearthed my chainsaw from my inside clutter. I checked to see if it was still working. The gnawing and buzzing of its snarling jaws got me excited, reinvigorating my tired body and soul - and allowing me to assault the tree with full force. I felt its xylem being torn apart - like a heart and soul being wrenched, kicking and screaming from a tiny baby. My muscles still in agony from pushing and gnawing, water finally burst out from within! A gush quenched my thighs and feet. I kept sawing, but the water filled my bottles too slowly and without enough concentration of force. So I sawed the roots and uprooted the entire tree, whilst slicing right into the middle of the baobab - unleashing its full torrents; however, I had destabilised the ground this tree kept flat, good for water, and nourished. Water shook at the foundations of the massive dune behind the baobab, leading to a new (metaphorical) tree falling. The dune ate me up like an obese man devours a small fry. In a river of rushing sand and water, I took to an almost paralysed form of butterfly stroke. I swam and jumped on nothing - eventually tumbling in the right direction, a field with rows upon rows of wonderful rice paddies in the mud. Fresh air and the aroma of close flowerbeds filled my lungs with sustenance, as I respired with gratefulness to photosynthesis. My body required the produce of these plants. I ached with hunger for the products of their growth; food, air, and also water. They kept the ground together for me to walk on, grow on, build shelter on (and from their hides) and eat from. They sustained those oxen across from me about to gallop at and attack me. They made me good steak and rump. Without plants, especially today, I'd be dead - but I might as well have spoken too soon, for those oxen seem to be charging at me, the oxen which these plants have sustained. Quite a misfort- OWWweeeedeceqfdbrfb [INAUDIBLE/EXPLETIVES]...