Entering a flower

A smiling woman wearing a magenta dress-suit, which resembles that of an air-hostess, stands next to a big rose and repeats an announcement. She informs the public that tickets are going on sale for a rose tour. People form a long line and stick their heads out to take a peak at the massive rose before them. They stand on the outward rose petal after they’ve climbed through a treacherous thorny stem. The closer their line gets to the rose entrance, the more refreshing, cool, moist, and fragrant the air gets. A skinny guy is up next to get a piece of ticket for the tour. He gets it, then follows the person before him. He glances around at the maroon and succulent grandeur as he walks in. Trickles of dew drip on him one at a time. His shirt is moist from rose water and fragrance. The more he gets inside, the more the folds of the rose get tighter and thicker. He begins to crawl on all fours and then eventually on his stomach. With each drag inwards, he is surrounded by soft, tight, cushion of lush. His fingernails scratch a bit of delicate rose skin while he pushes himself in as much as he can. He gnaws a bit of it with his teeth too, and it tastes subtly sweet and rosy. Eventually, he pops into the airy center of the rose bud and catches up with the rest who were before him. From the center onward, they slip and slide one at a time into a swirly downward slippery slope. At the end of the slide, they softly land one at a time into a large green leaf. They slowly slide off the silky curved leaf and gently fall into a soft puffy nutrient rich black soil that smells of earth and fresh rain. The man gets covered with the easy fragile clumps of soft soil. He climbs up a tad bit and shakes it off effortlessly. He lies on his back atop the mound and looks up at the massive rose against the sunny blue sky, and smiles dumbfoundedly.

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