The book that the tree was laid under had a big and powerful trunk and leaves the color of the rainbow and rain was never able to pass through the leaves. The people called the tree after the greek goddess "Iris". But Iris also was in charge of sending messages and Emily wondered if the tree did the same thing. Send messages from place to place or maybe from someone to someone, maybe from god to the people of this village. She shrugged it off as she looked down at what she wrote down and felt like she has written it some where before
it said
"This is my letter to the world,
That never wrote to me,--
The simple news that Nature told,
With tender majesty.
Her message is committed
To hands I cannot see;
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
Judge tenderly of me! "
Emily stared questionly at her writing. " Hey you know that every work of art needs to have the name of the author written on it" someone said as she jumped at the voice. She turned her head only to see the annoying eye painting retard named Jack the Ripper. "Yeah whatever" Emily said and signed at the bottom "Emily Dickinson".
YOU ARE READING
The book under the tree (Book 1)
Short Story"Why does everyone cry when they read the book that is supposedly older then time?"
