A Real, Honest to Goodness, Tree

It was grey for a long time. All my life. All da's life.

And then, out of the blue, or grey, or whatever, came green. Like in the old stories. We oohed and ahhed over it. Took the kids along of it. And Gramma, too. Wheeled her down there, watched her old face crack and brighten.

"Look!" she said, twinkling like Christmas, "Just like when I was a girl!"

We shucked shoes and socks, squirmed our toes through those green strands. Cool like a fresh pond, sweet like a honeymoon. Like we dangled our tootsies in a shark pool, grinning.

Then, after a little time, the Green sprouted summat. We oohed and ahhed some more.

"'Member your great grammar talkin' bout trees?" we said to the littlins. "Well, there y'are. Them's a Tree. A real, honest to goodness tree!"

Only a sapling, o'course, but it didn't stay that way for long.

Sappy fools that we were, we cared for it. Watered it, like the old books said. Wondered what kind of tree it was. Birch? Oak? Apple? We were excited. We hoped.

Thing is, we knew how big them old trees grew, coz of stories and that, y'know. But we dint know how fast it's s'posed to happen. That tree, it got real big, real fast. Thick roots bubbling through concrete like it were soft dirt.

That Green, it were spreading. Roots snaking through the ground and eating away at foundations.

Maybe after all those years of grey, the earth decided to fight back proper. Hard. Dirty.

People started going missing. Anyone got too close to the Green, they weren't seen again. Whole families got took. Kiddies and all. Where? We dint know.

The grey is shrinking now. We peak out of our burrows of metal and glass, and the little furry creatures tweak their noses at us. They know, as long as they stay near the Tree, they're safe from us. Us, who used to trap them and shoot them and poison them, and set our grey-born dogs on them.

Another sapling shooting up, just as quick as the first, and all we can do is watch. Helpless. Feel our world squeeze, and tables turn.

++++++++++++

Word count: (excluding author's note): 366

Submitted on: 18th May at 23.56

*Quick Author's Note*

First, and most importantly: thank you so much for reading my story! The ha'penny that Vocal will toss in my hat for your eyeballs landing on this humble piece will be well-spent. I might take up crack. Buy my second cousin another mansion. Clone my cat.

If you enjoyed this one, the very best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another!

A Year of Stories: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one continues my 140 day streak since 1st January!

Please do consider lending your support to the other creators who are also on this madcap "a story every day" adventure. They are putting out excellent content every day!

Rachel Deeming

Gerard DiLeo

Leave a comment: Please do leave me a comment. It makes it easier to reciprocate the read.

The story behind the story: We always assume, I think, that in the battle between Man and Nature, Nature must be "good", and Man... not. What if we were the good guys, guys? Sort of?

Thank you

Thank you again, most especially if you are one of the wonderful people who has been staunchly reading these daily scribbles since the start of the year. I see you, and appreciate you 😁

+ + + + + + + + + + + +