Lil nugget of a cactus rests his exhausted limbs in a bathtub. To his knowledge, he is becoming a more clean soul, but little does he know about the abyss of impurity in which he soaks. He gazes at the series of raindrops that roll down the window, contemplating the very mystery of his existence. A surge of melancholy enters his heart. He reminices of his cactus brother and sister he once knew and loved. They were separated two weeks after birth. He wonders of their whereabouts nowadays. Sister said she wasnted to write a coming-of-age novel. Brother wanted to take pilot lessons. Did these dreams ever come to surface? Lil cactus years to obtain the knowledge of their endeavors. His sole desire is to re-expose the sanctity of his heritage. Perhaps he can make it to a payphone? He ponders his teleological existence.
No. He is a cactus.
