Fake Plant

He lived in the city all his life. He had never set foot out of it. It was his home. He longed for something though.
Something fresh, something free. He ate at a diner down his street every night. The farthest he would go from his house was
his office building five streets down. He wanted to break free from his routine, but he could not. He would go from work to
the diner. The only communication he had was talking to the pretty waitress at the diner. She was getting married in june
of next year.
When he went home he sat and stared at his wall. All he had in his appartment was a bed and a fake plant. The plant
was the closest thing to him. He saw himself in the plant. It looked real. It blew in the wind, it had flowers, but it wasn't
real. He wasn't real.
One night he awoke from his sleep hours before he had to go to work. He was confused because he usually woke up right
on time to get ready for work and leave. He walked over to the plant, and threw it out the window. He ran out of his apartment,
he was still in his boxers and t-shirt. He ran to the street and was his plant lying there on the ground. It still looked
alive, he knew it wasn't. He started running, past the diner with the pretty waitress, past his office building. He set foot
on streets that his feet had never touched. He was not lost, he was not afraid. He kept running. With every step he took he
felt alive again. His plastic case was breaking and inside a real person was growing. When he made it to the city limmits he
saw the green of the grass and the smell of sweet, fresh, unpolluted air. He was alive, he wasn't fake anymore.