Suffering Tree

The boys talked to the tree long before it talked back. Startling them both, the tree whispered in a silken voice dripping honey: "I shall hear your words no more. I will not heed such an appalling lack of grace." Lights the colors of Christmas crackled in the air around the boys' heads, snapping and popping, dizzying them. As the bark of the tree peeled back, an opening emerged in the wood. They peered inside and saw what they were not old enough to see. The sweet smell of autumn woodsmoke filled the air, and the boys talked to the tree no more.