A seasonal drabble (a drabble is a story which is exactly 100 words long).
The big fir stood tall, watching over his siblings; mere saplings really. Heaven.
Then the men with chainsaws arrived; cutting a swathe though the forest. Soon it was his turn. The harsh metal teeth ripped into his bark. They tore through his trunk. He fell; felled. He screamed silently for his mother; Mother Nature.
He was tossed unceremoniously onto a truck with other fallen comrades.
***
Then he was standing again, but the sky was gone. No wind. No friends. His roots amputated. Glittery foreign objects weighed heavy on his branches. This was hell on earth.
I'm not much for required length stories, but your subject interests me.
I feel the same way about small trees (big fir?) being cut down and killed so that we can add to our ridiculous consumption society. I can't believe that they are now mostly "farmed" like any other produce and sold very cheaply. I think it's time we go to reusable imitation trees and stop cutting down these magnificent examples of nature's beauty.
If I were one to tag a fir tree for a homecoming in my parlor, I'd sure be bummed out. On a different not, the tree is decorated in finery. It is the protector of all the presents beneath it. It is the chosen one!
What began as Songs of the Angelic Gaze in the summer of 2006 continued the following year as The Bridge of Silver Wings, and developed even further two years after that into The Bridge of Silver Wings 2009. Whether readers describe it as a conversa
