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You're a young lady on your way back from a company do.

"We are the first facility of our kind," he would say going over all the new species in his mind.

The plants were his family. He liked the plants that were learning how to talk the best, but they could never be it for him. He had a dream for plants to be humans one day or at least close to it, so he wouldn't have to be lonely anymore.

"Ever have a threesome?" Tonya giggles bored with his ramblings.

He knows that she will move on soon. Sighing he takes off his jacket and leaves it on the chair. He follows the two young women to the bedroom with no expectation that he will make it through the night. He is looped into their college mentality trying to please them more than he pleases himself.

As Tonya rides his face with her sweet honey smell, her roommate rocks on his cock in timed rhythm. They face each other and kiss but he isn't here for his pleasure. He has never known his own pleasure. When they are done they ignore him. Tonya says she will call, but he knows she never will.

Its ok, he thinks to himself, another project starts tomorrow.

Part Two

At age fifty Gregory sits at his desk playing music for a dancing Mozart plant he nicknamed Hula.

"The seed is called Pygmalion," his co-worker thrust a tiny white seed into Gregory's hand, "it will grow whatever you want. It is fertilized by words."

"Words?" Gregory couldn't believe his ears. Sure John was at the forefront of plant research, but a seed that could grow anything?

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"Because," John says in a whisper, "you need it."

Gregory took the seed and placed it into his worn pocket. He didn't know how to sew and wished one woman had stuck around in his life long enough to show him.

On the train home he thumbs the kernel in his pocket. He had spent time with the human-like plants today and wondered just how human a plant could become.

John was different than all the other botanists at the facility. The weirdest part about John though is that he isn't very present. Gregory begins to wonder if he should trust him at all.

"Pygmalion," he says aloud running his hand along the smooth outer shell of the seed.

At home he places the plant on his kitchen counter and makes quick work of a left over pastrami sandwich on rye. Staring at the seed he imagines what could be.

"She would be beautiful," he says aloud.

The seed seems to shake on the counter but Greg thinks it his imagination.

"She would be beautiful and kind. She would be smart, but not too smart, definitely not smarter than me. She would love unconditionally and find some kind of beauty in science," he says sighing to himself.

Looking at the seed on the counter, anger rips through him. He flings the seed into the garbage and heads up to bed.

"But most of all," he says under his breath in the hallway, "she wouldn't be anything like the others."

In bed he tosses and turns over thoughts of all the women who hurt him in his life. Ms. Corporate America was too demanding. Jeanne was a lesbian. Tonya was pretty but na__ve. He can't help but think he is too old for anything but that now.

"She would love me for me," he says to himself, "and she would never leave."

That was the worst part after all, the loneliness. There was something sick and twisted about a man as smart as him with nothing to come home too. He wonders about the great scientist before him and the women who no doubt stood next to them. Where is Madame Curie when you need her? Stifling all thoughts of a better life he finds himself curled in forest green blankets.

The next morning he rises to an unfamiliar sound coming from the kitchen. It sounds like something is exploding. Tossing the covers aside he rushes downstairs to a sight he barely can process.

The seed has cracked and something sticky pours from the crevasse creating what appears to be a full grown humanoid still in a plant like womb.

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