Tree Tale
- a Short Story
- by NoMad
It’s winter now. I wonder where you would be.
I still remember that evening in the spring when you moved into me. I was green and full. You chose me out of everyone here. You slept in my arms every night as I looked after you ethereally. You flew out with the morning sun and I spent all day waiting for you to return. I have no count of the days we spent together, but I always saw the winter coming.
One morning a golden sun came by and I watched your wings spread through that winter wind. The last I saw of you was a silhouette outlined in shimmering gold.
I shed myself like tears that season.
I still have your home safe in me. I keep hoping that you’d fly back to me someday, when the sun shines gold, and call me home again.
NoMad
from Delhi, India, claims to be a millennial who wants to see the world, go places, meet people, gather new experiences, feel those intangible things and emotions that make one human. He pursues art in whatever forms available, and believes that nothing is a bigger art than life itself. A pen, a book, a brush, a doodle, a breath, a life!
