Wednesday, November 20, 2013

The Last Tree

Another 100 word storytelling.  

Going to bed, recuperate from the double-shift and get ready for the next one.  

Thought of this story while watching construction workers take down a tree by my workplace.  


11/19/2013 (Tuesday)- The Last Tree

She finds herself lost in the noise of urban-ity, the tumultuous din echoing back and forth between the soot-stained grey buildings, the thunderous march of a million feet reverberating on concrete earth, reaching out to her bones and teeth rattling them in response.

She finds it harder to breath as the smog gets thicker each day.

She finds her hair thinning over the years:  dying, brittle, gone.

She finds herself dreaming more and living less.  Dreaming of a home long gone.

Chopped.  Burned.  Paved.

All in the name of progress.

She leaves like her brothers and sisters.

Chopped.  Burned.  Paved.