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  • "Ah, but it's so much more real when it's you, isn't it? Take this berry for example," he said, plucking one of many bright red berries from a branch that hung overhead. Holding it up in front of his face, he squished it between his fingers, letting the watery, rose tinted juice mix with the rain and drip steadily to the ground.

    "Why that one? Well, it could have been any of them, or none at all," he contemplated.

    "But I did pick that one, and only to that berry does it make a difference."

    He meticulously picked the seeds out of the berry's crushed shell, planted them in the ground, and said nothing else.
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