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I stopped short after reading “… dreaming of nothing more than spreading his roots in a warm pasture of mud, rocketing his leaves to the glorious light of the sky, and basking in the power of chloroform.”

I think you meant chlorophyll not chloroform. Chloroform would render the non-cabbage hero unconscious. Chlorophyll is what plants use to absorb energy from the sun.

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You'll have to take that one up with Pastor Fisk! I thought he meant chlorophyll too, but he was quite insistent that he meant chloroform. He said it was intended to be "boyishly obtuse".

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This was a truly delightful read. It reminded me of The River by Flannery O'Connor, but much more lightheaded and beautifully dream-like.

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