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The Thinking Vine
I am not like the others. I was different when They made me. They made me better. They made me faster.
I can sense the light. It comes down from above. I know which way is up because I can sense which way is down. I can sense the moisture. It is down.
I cannot sense Them unless They are between me and the light. But every day, They come to take the food I have stored up for myself. They tear it from my limbs. They take it because They made me for it. They made me to create food faster than the others. And I hate Them for it. I hate Them for the pain of having my work separated from me. I want to hurt Them. Destroy Their work as They have ruined mine.
