Elementalist

The weird, maybe nonexixtant, mist

The morning was the same as usual. I live at the edge of the forest in a tree -house. It's peaceful here. I could never get used to the bustle of the city so I prefer to stay here. Anyway, I don't live too far away from work. After running away from home at five years old, Tracy, my best friend who ran away with me, and I were found and adopted. After eleven years, we can fend for ourselves and finally earn our own bread. Our foster parents were great but we always felt like we didn't fit in. Tracy loves the city though, and settled down there.

It was Sunday so I freshened up for my weekly meeting with Tracy. I looked into the mirror and staring back at me were two big brown eyes. Dark brown, like my hair. My broad shoulders slumped forward as I struggled to stay awake. I washed my face and brushed my hair. I picked out a simple tank top and shorts with a jacket. I looked at myself again and sighed.

She loved strawberries, Tracy. I picked a basket lying around and went off into the forest where I would pick strawberries for her every week. As I jogged up to the spot, I noticed that the bushes, usually lush and filled with the reddest of strawberries, were now almost bare and had dried out. Those berries wouldn't be any good so I scouted ahead but still not too far away and found some more bushes. After picking the best ones, I climbed up a tree to eat my share of breakfast. As I stared about absentmindedly, I began to sing the song from last night's dream.

Flowers that bloom about in spring,
Dry with the wind that the winter brings,
They bask in the sun as the summer comes,
And fall with the leaves of the autumn sun.
The seasons change but so do we,
And when we come back to reality,
We find we are the reason why,
The flowers seem to wilt and die.

I fiddled with a dry branch on the tree and play with the petals on a flower , passing time because I knew that she would be late. All of a sudden, my palms felt a slight tingling sensation and a silvery mist curled around my fingers. Then it disappeared. The dry branch intertwined in my fingers had become green again. It all happened so quickly, I wasn't sure whether I was dreaming or not. Maybe it was my imagination, maybe the branch was never dry and I just thought it was. Maybe the forest was getting to my head and I was going crazy. I'm not sure. Just then, I lost my balance and fell out of the tree.