There sits the lovely laundry, fresh and clean. Crisp, no wrinkles. It lays witnessing the most beautiful sunset. The laundry of two sits alone on that window seal waiting to be worn.
As night comes it sits so silently it could start to hear the whispers of the night from the leaves rustling and the animals buzzing. It sits alone under the bright blue moon waiting to be worn.
Heavy breathing filled the silence of the night, so quiet yet so loud. The trees seemed to quiet and all the animals have hidden away except for two who were playing chase. Oh the laughter to hear, the screams of pure joy, what a wonderful game it seemed. The young boy caught the other as he wiggled to break free to play some more that mellow night. They played for hours, with one boy as the rabbit and the other the fox.
Dawn broke as the rabbit made it so close to the small home. The laundry waiting silently yet so gleefully for his owners return, yet something was off. His poor owner had opened his chest and planted such a small seed right by his heart. A seed that whispered to the trees, the laundry knew his owner was no longer his, the fox had caught him and made him a tree. Slowly he saw him snatch the rabbit and pull out his guts to delicately lay them so neat, his body turned to a new found pattern made of guts and one tree seed in which will grow from him.
Now some walk in that old forest hearing the ghost of the past playing so finely. They know of the laundry that sat on that house and watched as his owner turned to a mighty oak. Some try to chop it down with stone, but the laundry knows it will stand so tall. Not again will his owner fall to the hands of a fox.
