Weeds
A farmer walked through his field, upon all the verdant green that rolled across the horizon line, content with its beauty. Until he saw a single weed that sprouted from the ground, a disgusting blight in an otherwise perfect field. So, he leaned down and tore it out. Its roots popped from the earth with the sound of torn fabric. All that remained of it was a barren spot on the ground where once it stood. Satisfied with his work, he continued his day tending to other pastures and slept soundly. But, then the very next day, two more weeds sprouted in that greenery. Furious, he knelt down and ripped away the weeds by the neck before scouring for more hiding from plain sight. He wielded a white jug of chemicals. Poured so lavishly that the scent of citrus choked the field, but he could no longer smell it. The farmer would only be reminded of it from the incessant itch along his ankles as he returned home for the night. Even more weeds grew by the next morning. The farmer balked, baffled, ...