For a few weeks a year, the water flows down out of the hills and onto this dusty plain where Ker patiently awaits it. The dust covers his skin and hair, the flies dance around his head, but he pays these things no attention. Just before him, underground is the root, and when the water comes…
He will have to defend it when it sprouts, from being eaten or trampled. It will grow quickly, furiously, using as much water as it can. When it flowers, Ker will pluck and eat the bloom.
He will be immortal, invincible, for another year.
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