Scent of death. One planted the seed, watered it, put natural manure. A shoot did grow, the first leave did sprout. Years or a year pass one day altogether. Gifts of fruit came, and so does my neighbor. A farmer and a scholar with his still ongoing research, brings me a bag of supporter. And I did eat it, and even put it in a mixer, and never added even a teaspoon of sugar. And we drank it with cold water mixed with it