I'm standing in a yard when I see someone coming toward me out of the woods. He's ghastly looking. His skin is covered with thick veins. His eyeballs protrude, revealing the blood vessels behind them. Yet I'm not afraid. In fact, I see that he appears to be friendly, and I wait for him to get closer.
He stops next to me, and we greet each other. I discreetly look at his veins. But they're not veins at all. They're worm-like casings under a translucent skin.
He points to one on his forearm. "This squash looks like it grow into a nice one." I nod in appreciation. I realize that they are seedlings. But they are moving, breathing. They are larve. I'm tempted to point out that I thought plants grow from seeds, not grubs, but I do not want to upset the man.
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