Free All Living : A Seedvision Saga (9781621473923) by Michael C. Humphrey Page A

branches had brushed the breath of the air with leaves of mint.
    He took a deep mouthful of the air and swallowed it, feeling it flow through his body and fill his chest with its rich luxury. He walked, not knowing or caring which direction he went. He walked as his eyes found wonders to walk toward, to examine. The breeze ruffled the leaves and branches of the trees all around him, playing a merry game of chase with itself through the boughs. It whispered to him among the limbs and teased him with its mastery of motion.
    The birds were everywhere, pausing to rest among the dappled shadows and flying back and forth with their young. Animals drifted amongst the trunks of the trees, creatures he had seen and creatures he had never seen, but he knew their names: horse, lion, elephant, bear, giraffe, and squirrel; monkey, dog, zebra, mouse, kangaroo, and camel. They paused in their grazing as he passed, some so close to him that he reached out and touched them.
    The sound of water sang to him and he followed it to its source, a wide river of water rushing between pebbled banks to disappear in the distance. Many of the animals slept beside its coolness, the soothing gurgle of its passage lulling them to stillness. Wild vines and flowers grew in organized disarray, colorfully bedecking the shady shoreline.
    The trees on either side of the river stretched their fruit-laden limbs toward each other, dipping to brush the surface of the liquid as it flowed past. But it was the fruit and the scent of its juices that captivated Kole’s attention most. He had never witnessed such a profusion of colors and aromas. The grapes and berries were thickly gathered and individually enormous. Each grape was the size of a man’s fist and so darkly purpled as to rival sunset’s last fleeting moments. Each berry bent the tendril of its vine and although smaller in size, colored the landscape every imaginable hue—reds, blues, and blacks, whites, yellows, and oranges. Vines and creeping branches produced melons the size of a man’s head with a variety of solids, speckles, and stripes. The fruit trees provided an equal canopy of ripe, luscious delights; silver and gold and clear designs, and shapes with unknowable names, all in the peak of their perfection.
    They hung everywhere. Each tree bowing with the weight of its bounty, bent toward the earth to generously present its offering. Kole licked his lips but turned away. However, there was no escaping the abundance in the garden. Trees with no fruit on them offered the meat of nuts, their hulls blanketing each circular patch of earth around their roots and bases. Some of the shells had cracked open from falling, and Kole could smell the rich, wooden headiness of their pungency. Beneath the limbs of the garden it was cool and shady, and Kole noticed for the first time that the sun was much lower in the sky. He was hungry but dared not eat any of the delicacies around him. The angel had warned him neither to eat nor to let food touch his lips. In his pack he still had some of his dried fish but even that was off limits. Kole smiled to himself and found a soft patch of grass to lie down upon. He thought briefly of lighting a fire, but he was tired and the air was not in any way unpleasant. He comforted himself with the first amiable thoughts that he had had in a long time and closed his eyes. Thoughts of the garden’s beauty began to heal the bruised thoughts of his brothers. Within moments he was dreaming.

    The next morning Kole awoke happy and full of energy. He started to open his pack to grab a bit of food but stopped himself. “No food today,” he said aloud. He rose and stretched, feeling more refreshed than he had in a long time, perhaps ever. He walked down to the river and kneeling, scooped up a large handful of water, but then stopped himself again. He poured the water out and carefully rubbed his forehead and neck with his wet hand, being careful not to get any on his lips. He stood and