Sun shines through leafy green trees, all lined up on street medians cutting the black asphalts poignant composition upon what once was their home. Lined up, one by one, they wait in silence. There is little that they say to one another, besides the usual whispers carried by the wind. Last year it was the passing of a beautiful oak tree near the intersection of ninth and 32nd ave. There was a bit of an explosion as the internal combustion engine of the Maserati slammed against the ancients bark. Flames over took this majestic being and burnt every bit of green, the fire burned for over an hour before the fire department put it completely out. By this time though, the beautiful green was gone from this one tree in particular, and its bark damaged. This is when the city decided that the trees were much to dangerous... or rather, the money of the Maserati's owners thought so. Their child, who'd been driving intoxicated wasn't to blame, not at all! Rather, it seemed more fitting for the trees to be blamed, after all they didn't have twelve lawyers and the backing of a family fortune that spans over generations. No, the tree was definitely to blame. As soon as Mrs. X showed up in the office of the mayor on that morning, the trees knew what was to come. Soon they had all kinds of little people climbing on top, tying themselves to their giant branches. This was all so surprising to them! They were unable to move, and had mostly decided that if they were to die then what best place than that very spot where they were born, next to their brethren and fellow trees. Some of the humans though, some whom they'd known as children crossing the street, brushing their hands against the strong bark, made it clear they appreciated their shade and free oxygen by spending entire days and nights at their trunk to make sure no one hurt them. Eventually the rich family gave in, and decided that it probably wasn't such a good idea to cut down such majestic beings, who had often covered their subtle and fragile skin from the sun as they drove in their convertibles down ninth. They bought out the street, built a bridge by-pass, and allowed the trees to grow and have even more friends and green around them. It was beautiful.
This story is fiction, all of it. Even the way in which humans behave, that is also fiction. It's all fiction, the whole thing. This makes me sad.
No comments:
Post a Comment