drench
He's grown, I observed, as he walked into the door. He's grown far past myself; he almost seems like a giant now. An adult in stature, he doesn't match his physical self well, preferring to act like a child, like he always does. It's a shame he's wasting his life, but that is the predicament of a grown child.
The tallest man stood on the mountain, the wind tossing his hair. He gazed down the vista he had ascended just an hour earlier, surveying the grass and plants that his foot had treaded on. He sighed and closed his eyes, removing the illusion from view. It was a most tragic illusion, that the plants still grew and that life still bloomed.