From a Tree's Perspective

a short story. I had one foot in a dream and the other in the world we know. How to wake up crying on this day June 13th 2013.

I hung my lover.

But his soul lives.

There was once a boychild, a tree was planted the day he was born.

I was that tree.

He loved and cared for me as he grew.

One day he was taken away and enslaved.

At this time, I traveled with him because I had been chopped down where I stood.

I traveled far and found a seed in the wind.

I landed on his plantation.

During this enslavement, I grew as he aged.

He didn't notice me.

Trying to get his attention as he thought about me less and less.

Toiling in the fields.

The accusations started to point in his direction.

One winter.

A group of dead men gathered him and brought him to me, I that he ignored in all his years.

When I felt the presence of the familiar, my roots started to writhe deep into the earth with glee.

One of the dead men slapped my trunk, "This is a good one! Dark like him, strong like him, dead like he will be!"

My branches shook.

The dead men got goosebumps then shook them off.

Practiced noose knots.

Horse and hot iron.

Burn.

Feet then writhe as I wept sap.

In the spring,

At the dead men's breakfast table

Sap later tapped and poisoned the lot.

The soul of a man and the soul of his tree were reunited.