Short Story: The King’s Garden
Once, a king had a wish.
He wanted a tropical garden in his desert kingdom. And what the king wanted, the whole kingdom moved to realise.
Enough water to supply the whole kingdom was channelled to the garden, and plants from all over were brought in to populate the king’s new garden.
The garden didn’t succeed overnight. It took a few false starts, but each time, the gardeners found a better balance between the practicality of their local plants with the visuals of the thirsty tropical plants. Day by day, the king’s garden grew, a vibrant green in the midst of the monotonous brown. It was the kingdom’s pride and joy.
Then someone set it on fire.
The arsonist did it in protest. How could the king waste so much precious resources for something so non-essentially trivial?
The arsonist had a point, but surely the king was allowed some privileges after working hard to keep their kingdom alive in this barren land. And even if them common folk would never step foot in the king’s garden, just seeing the garden from a distance was an uplifting sight.
In the end, the garden was cleared, and they lost their green jewel. The people turned their eyes back to the endlessly brown ground.
Wait, was that something green?
The king’s garden had been the king’s personal wish, but it was also just a small part of his bigger dream, which was to reclaim their desert land and greenify their kingdom. With the knowledge and experience gained from their trials in the king’s garden, the gardeners set out to all corners of the kingdom. Little by little, the green jewel returned in bits and pieces all across the land.
But the king’s garden never returned.