The City noticed a non-ideal degradation of operations within its walls, so she decided to consult a therapist.

“What have you tried?” the therapist asked.

“I’ve increased flower density in commonly frequented public spaces and eliminated unwanted seedlings,” the City said. “And increased the pace of debris clearance. Among other things. What’s wrong with me?”

“Perhaps try doing nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Stop weeding. Allow idling. Let things break down.”

Though dubious, the City agreed to try, and soon returned to the therapist in excitement.

“Two non-familial citizens just engaged in a spontaneous display of felicity over a dandelion!”

“Keep going,” the therapist urged.

The City let tree roots churn the sidewalks and fallen leaves decay into unsightly muck. Her organic constituents seemed confusingly happier. Operations continued to improve.

One day the Valley’s river flooded and the City--against protocol--let the waters in. Am I no longer myself? the City questioned as her calculated boundaries dissolved.

The Valley smiled and said nothing, as if they were two people holding hands, connected by more than the touch of skin.