Creaking, grinding, the sluice-gates opened. The dam cracked. The river flooded mansion and fountains, and Maybelle, having purchased her own death, drowned in the largest fountain's pool. A hungry horse nibbles the sunflowers. The farmer shoots him.
Hungry hippies pilfer some of the giant heads.
The farmer shoots them. Developers buy the farm. More horses and hippies eat the last sunflowers' parched seeds. But the hummingbird, equally delicate, exquiste, will batter itself against the clearest window to be free to bath in the silt-carrying waterfall, to suck honey from an untamed flower. Thus SuChong, rather than be an ornament, spent her youth studying to become a physicist.