There is a very rare kind of flower which grows in the north. Few living men and women have seen this flower, and next to nothing is known about it. A curious thing is that where others of its kind grow in fields and patches and meadows, it always stands alone, a single plant bearing a single flower. The single bundle of petals is of such size and startling beauty that to refuse it a second glance is impossible.
A passing hiker notices this stunning flower and is drawn to it as if it had summoned him by name. He comes closer and stands in awe. Its petals are so perfectly arranged, its colors so vivid. He thinks that it looks like a peacock, as he has never seen such a thing he cannot believe it is real. It was nearly as wide across as his forearm, and he wishes he had a camera to capture its likeness.
He looks, intrigued, away from the dazzling mural of the petals, to the plain golden center. Where most flowers, as he recalls, have a center lined with pollen or something to that end, this one seemed to be hollow. Around the hole is a set of protruding masses that, once he thinks of it, irreversibly reminds him of female genitalia. The more he examines it, the more he confirms that it could be a precise replica of a vaginal opening.
Extending a finger, he probes the center of the flower gently. He finds it to be sturdier than he expected, and slips his finger into the hole. It is indeed a hole, and a deep one at that. He grows more astounded with every centimetre that his finger is able to push down into the center of the flower. Finally he is stopped by his knuckles, and still cannot feel any end to the tunnel. Stranger still, the inside of the flower is warm and - could it be wet? He pulls out his finger and inspects it closely, finding it coated with a clear and shiny fluid. Very strange.
