Farris Swanson didn’t understand the concept of poetic love. It was as alien to him as monkey cheese.
He was aware of love towards the creatures of the Earth. But, the way he saw it, that was just deep respect and not the syrupy love you saw depicted on screen, or vomited forth in pop songs.
He thought he’d felt it a few times in his life, but, as he grew older, he came to understand it more on a chemical basis. And even then it hadn’t lasted more than a sweat session.
He yearned to be in love. There was no doubt about that. To be able to one day stare into another being’s eyes and confidently holler: THIS PERSON IS THE ONE!
Though, were these sparkly-eyed “lovers” -those who walked under a perpetual sun and for whom even rain became diamonds dribbling from their overjoyed skin- just lying to themselves, in a deluded inclination to fit in with society’s whimsy?
Was it all just a governmental control plot to sell more chocolate and flowers?
He couldn’t categorically say.
So he bought a tortoise.