Monday, 17 March 2014

Very Short Mondays: The Tree

The tree sat between two railway bridges, above the High Street.

A protective non-contact hug on two sides, by painted steel girders.

The girders, the most riveting thing the tree had ever seen (even without that awful pun).

Not even a view of the early sunset could lift the tree out of its malaise.  A sunset that gave the gathering clouds their glowing golden heart.

The tree knew something was happening, down on the High Street.  Could hear the buzz building as the evening folk swung into action.

But there was nothing to see between the bridges.  Just the tarmac of the road below.  And the tree wasn't even tall enough to see over the top.

Always missing out.


Link of the Day: What does the Monopoly man do all day?


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