A tree with twisted branches, no leaves in sight and bark the color of coal, stands alone. Waiting for someone to notice, waiting for someone to care.
Grey skies hung low, a constant reminder of the emptiness all around.
Sometimes grass would grow, but as soon as it's noticed - it wilts under the trees' gaze.
Why did nothing stay? Was it something the tree did? It always thought it was kind.
Rain falls from the sky, trapping the tree in isolation, it was about to give up.
Three bright chirps. Happy and excited. A light weight on one of its branches.
The tree dare not look, for the fear of losing a a new friend shook it to its very core.
Two more chirps, softer than the first.
Another weight on another branch.
For the first time the tree felt warmth. Was that the sun? No that's impossible.
More chirps - louder and louder, filling up the twisted branches with a comforting pressure.
The tree finally dared to look, its excitment bubbling over. It did not have leaves, this it was sure of, but bright colors swarmed the branches, making it feel full.
And they didn't leave. They didn't vanish like the grass.
Endless songs began to give the tree hope, and its branches became less tangled. Its bark became brighter, and it felt more at ease.
The skies became blue, and it felt no more rain.
It was finally at peace. Finally able to be alive.
