Sunday, June 23, 2013

THE TREE: This short is a little under 400 words, and like some of the others, more an expression of an idea than a fully fleshed out and finalized story. It's a dream, a glimpse of thought. Written in 2008.

Some swayed near the bottom just above the clouds in hollow spots of the Tree.  Others slept on the largest branch in wide grooves of bark and a few played games around the leaves.  High above in a branch shaped like a hand perched the Elder and a few saplings.
"Will it be soon?" asked one of the buds with a toothless smile.  Lips never moved but words hummed harmonically.
"Yes.  The mists are here," said the Elder.  Spherical drops materialized above. The sky was a fading blue, sun setting with a yawn, reflecting sunlight off its smooth scalp.  The Elder rose, arms spread apart.  Purple veins pulsed through silver skin.  Soft yellow petals scaled down from its waist, widening into a bell-shape.  The petals curled up and out in unison with the arms.
"What should we do?" asked another sapling.  The drizzle was thick and slick, a flowery sweetness its scent.  Incandescent specks danced in the droplets.
"Nothing!  We needn't do anything.  Look."  The Elder pointed opposite the sun.  An immense silk blanket fluttered towards them, skating on clouds that stretched into infinity.
A third bud, petals white with red tint, stood next to the Elder.
"It's purple like our eyes.”
"Yes, like our eyes.  Like that which is within us."  Everyone on the Tree joined the Elder, almost completely covered by the brume.
"Enjoy the view everyone.  Remember it when we go."  It motioned across the sea of clouds and arriving blanket as the celestial canvas dissolved from blue to rich oranges and reds, then to a layer of shaded violet.
The blanket cradled the Tree and its saplings, undulating like a curtain in a breeze.
"Will this hurt,” asked the smallest of the buds, taking hold of the Elder’s hand.
"Oh no, it won't.  You'll be fine.  You'll need your imagination to bloom while on the journey.  So take in all that you see my seedling."
As the sun sank the blanket cocooned over the Tree - a purple thunder strike frozen in time.
"Thank you," whispered the Elder.
The Tree’s glow pulsed rhythmically before fading into the darkening twilight.  A luminescent droplet hung in suspension in its place.  The droplet then shot in an arch towards the horizon, a vanishing trail into nightfall.

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