There once was an evergreen tree that lived alone in the forest. He was the only evergreen there, and he stood in a little clearing all by himself. His name was Christopher, and he was very lonely because all the other trees disliked him. They said he was a silly tree to stay green all year.

“Ha-ha! You look ridiculous covered with those silly needles!” they laughed and jeered, “That’s why no one will ever want you! You’re no good! You’re not good for burning, or building, or for climbing either!”

Christopher knew that what they said was true. People did not want him for their fireplaces, they wanted oaks, birches and maples. He would not be built with, because his sap was sticky, and for the same reason children did not climb him. They didn’t want their hands to get dirty.

Christopher sighed, and wondered if he really was useless? Could there a use for him, or would he end his days unloved, alone in the forest? The wind whispered through his branches, and the sun peeked from behind a cloud. The birds flew here and there, chirping out their melodies. The birds were Christopher’s only friends, and they liked to sit in his branches and sing on sunny days.

Christopher noticed that there were many birds out today. Seeing a sparrow of his acquaintance, he decided to ask him what was happening.

“Sammy!” Christopher called out. The sparrow stopped chattering with his friends and looked around. Spotting Christopher, he flew over and alighted on one of his branches.

“Well, hello, Chris!” He tweeted cheerily, “Isn’t it a fine day for traveling?”

“Traveling!” exclaimed Christopher, a note of worry creeping into his voice.

“Sure, my pals and I are flying south for the winter.” Sammy twittered.

“South! Why? Aren’t you guys happy here?” Christopher asked.

“Yes, but it’s getting too cold for us, so we’re flying down to the sunny south for the winter. We’ll be back in the spring! Though, I have been considering spending next year with my cousins who live a bit north of here.” Sammy told him.

“Why not stay? You could make it through the winter! You can build a nest in my branches! Just don’t go!” Christopher begged.

“Sorry, Chris! I’ll miss you, but I’ve got to go south, it’s in my blood. So long, Chris, I’ve got to get ready!” and with a last wave, Sammy the Sparrow flew off.

Christopher stood in silence. He couldn’t believe it; his only friends were leaving! Even if the winter birds came, it wouldn’t be the same. He knew, from what the other trees said, that the winter birds were all snobs, who wore winter coats, and strutted about in the snow. He would be friendless, and the winter winds would whistle, and the snow would fall, and he, Christopher, would be all alone! Christopher blinked back sappy tears and swallowed. He felt as if there was a knot in his trunk. His branches shook as he thought of his fate. Dying alone in a forest, friendless, alone in the winter cold!

Days passed, and flocks of birds flew overhead. A flock of sparrows went by, and Christopher recognized Sammy as one of them.

Now the snow began to fall, and the ground was white. Christopher’s branches were covered with snowflakes, and it clung to his needles.

All the other trees were drifting off to sleep and would stay asleep until spring. But Christopher was wide awake, and he was lonesome. The winter birds had arrived, but they didn’t seem to notice Christopher. He tried calling out to them, but they didn’t even glance his way.

Christopher felt as if the whole world was cruel and cold. He spent his time in silence, shivering in the cold harsh winter wind.

Then, one day when Christopher was feeling bluer than ever, he heard something. It was faint, and hard to hear over the birds chattering in the branches of trees, but Christopher heard it, nonetheless. It was the sound of children’s laughter. Here they came, a bunch of children, and two adults. The children ran towards him, shouting with joy.

“Look! There is a Christmas tree! We want this one! It’s perfect!” They cried, jumping up and down.

The adults laughed, and the man said, “All right kids, we’ll do this one.”

Christopher saw him bend over, and then felt something.

“Timber!” shouted the man, as Christopher toppled over.

“Ouch!” thought Christopher, “Well, at least the snow cushioned me.”

He felt himself be picked up. Then he was carried out of the woods. He saw a house, and he was carried up the walk, and inside. There he was placed in a stand, and a woman poured in some water.

“Please, Mama, can we decorate it now?” the children pleaded.

“Oh, all right.” the woman said, laughing.

Boxes were dragged in and opened. Soon Christopher was covered with lights and ornaments from tip to trunk.

The family stood back to admire their handiwork.

“You know what? I think this is the best tree we’ve ever gotten.” the Father said, with a happy smile.

“I think it’s perfect.” the Mother agreed.

Christopher never before had had such a wonderful time.

“The other trees were wrong!” he thought, “I am useful after all! In fact, if I didn’t stay green year-round, I wouldn’t be here in a warm house, with the best friends that I’ve ever had!”

The End

unlike his illustrious predesessors (a cactus, and a , respectcely), Darius , the third of his name was an Aralia. a thread leaf aralia, to be exact. he took his throne amid a period of great turmoil. the untimely and suspicious demise of the medicinal sage Xerxes, the grand wazir, of the lower reaches of the eastern balcony left a power vacuum, was followed by fears of an encrochment of the relentless rosemaries. this was addressed without delay by the new soverign. the punitive expedition was not without cost, and through those dark early days, many of regal leaves were lost to the insurgants. however, with resolute action, the rosemary dominion was pacified, and for a long period, did not dare to tempt the wrath of the now well-established king. the hard summer that dollowed tis period of unrest was not without difficulty, but Darius presevered, and was sprouting new foliage and extending his dominion. he was not disheartened by the dry air of the winter months, nor its plummeting temperature. such was his grace, that under these harsh conditiobs it strived and made itself ready, and by springtime sprouted not one , but four new branches. such was the rapid pace of his spread, that despite the hardships which beset his reign, be they an unexpected buffeting of the palacial pot, dust, or even an ant infestation, he held his perch upon the balcony and did not yeild. from a young sapling, it grew through the hard summers and bitter winters until it reached the unprecedented height of three feet.

but it was in the midst of this prosperity that tragedy struck. as his foliage extended greatly beyond the meager resources of the palatial pot, yea, even causing it to often be unbalanced. it was then decided that he should abandon his old pot and enthrone himself anew in a new, bigger and more voluminous palace. commensurate with his acheivment and triumph. a well crafted, porcelain edifice was chosen and he was repotted, upon the jubilation of his third year of ascendency, in the early spring.

alas, the subsequent summer was particularly disastrous. it was as if the sun-god himself, choosing to strike against the benevolent ruler, out of jelousy and spite. with unprecedented heat waves, and possibly a difficulty to fully acclimate to the soil of the new pot, many roots succumbing, and with them an ominous fall of several leaves. the autumn regrowth, which charachrarized his early reign was not seen, and not a single new branch appeared. the leaves fell, one by one, and the mortal threat was quite apprent. but glorious onto the end, the mighty Darius, held on despite his illness, for most of the cold winter months, when even the rosemary succumbed en mass.

the reign of Darius the III ended in the early days of april, when the spring blooms outside, beneath his ascended 5th story realm. birds chriped and mated, and growth was renewed among the vassal ficus , gynko, and tangerine trees, and the myrtel thralls under them. such was his power, the he survived until a time of great prosperity and justice to his subjects. his death was silently mourned amid the budding cherry flowering.

The tree had been there for as long as Michael could remember. Planted in front of his childhood home, where his parents still lived, it stood three times as high as the house. He used to climb it when he was younger, he broke his leg from falling off, twice. He had also wondered if he would be able to make it to the top. To his nine year old self, it was there was a secret treasure at the top, like in his video games, but now he saw that there was nothing special about the tree top. Now that it had had fallen down unto the house.

The emergency team that came over were certain that it was the high winds that had caused it to tumble over onto the house, there were other trees that did just that earlier in the day. He sat on the porch as the team carried out his father on the stretcher. It seemed so sudden, mom had passed away just the week before, now it was Dad's turn. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders, it really did help. He followed team into the ambulance. His father was still breathing, short shallow breaths, and he had enough consciousness to refuse any treatment that the EMT's offered him. Even though the tree had smashed into his shoulder, there was bone sticking out, he refused anything for the pain. The EMT's were stunned, but they followed his wishes and just stopped the freeflow of blood, leaving the branch, which skewed him through the shoulder.

They were probably halfway to the hospital when his dad, who was nearly 70 years old, started speaking to Michael. "I guess it just is my time, I never wanted to live my life without her." He coughed a bit, causing some blood to spit out of the wound and his mouth, the EMTs looked very concerned. "I still don't know how you were able to live life without a partner. I would have died of loneliness years ago if I did not have her in my life. In fact, I don't think we every told you about how we first met. Did we?"

Michael replied. "Yes, you did, but I don't think this is a good time to recount it." He looked at the EMTs who were agreeing with him. "You need to stop talking so that you can rest. We can talk about this when you are better."

"No," he snapped backed. "I won't make it to the hospital, and I don't want to. I am going to tell you now. I was climbing this tree." He pointed at the branch sticking out of him. "When I fell, and hurt my ankle. I was only like a yard or too up. I was twelve, your mom, who was just a year older than me, had just moved in next door. Apparetly, she was watching me out of her bedroom window because only moments after I fell, she was there by myside. It might have been the pain too, but the summer sun shining through her blonde hair made her look like an angel. An angel with a golden halo. I was smitten." He paused smiling while looking at the empty chair to his left. "You look just like I remember darling." He then looked at the EMTs, "now let me die in peace." They all nodded. He then closed his eyes.

I fell in love with him so quickly that I thought it to be just an infatuation at first. When I saw him, I could feel my limbs surge with excitement. I watched as he effortlessly walked around the room, smelling the colorful arrangements while bending down to admire the ornate features. The slight smirk of satisfaction that spread along his lips caused me to hum.

"How much?" I heard him say, walking away.

"Those?" A woman shouted back.

I yearned for his response. I couldn't tell what he had been asking about. Moments later, nausea erupted through my core as I lost my vision. I panicked. What was happening?

"Thank you," I heard him say. Where was he?

"Sure..." I listened closer. Was that the woman?

"You'll like..." What was she saying?

"It's easy... bag should..."

Should bag? The bag should what? Ugh, nausea again. I tried to focus, but I felt faint. I was growing hot, and it was harder to breathe.

Bright light startled me awake. I must've fainted. The air felt better here. I could see trees through the glass. I had never seen trees that big. I was amazed at the sight. My heartstrings pulled as I saw him. It was him. I didn't recognize anything or anyone else, but it was him.

Every day since I'd arrived, I'd watch him walk back and forth. He stared at me sometimes, and I'd stare back. It had only been a few days, but I knew I loved him. He picked me. He would take care of me. I had dreamed of this.

Days passed, and I was so happy. I'd watch the trees, other people would come and go, and he was always there. Today he waved to me. He's never waved before. I'd tried to wave back, but my limbs felt stiffer than usual. Night came, and I was starting to feel unwell. The light woke me, and I began to worry. Where was he? He usually would have walked passed by now. My limbs ached and grew harder to move.

Three more nights came, and still no sign of him. I have become so weak that I cannot think straight. My breath slowed as I watched the trees. The emptiness was beginning to consume me, and I could feel my energy pulling towards the light. Where have you gone, my love? Everything has gone black and quiet.

Cool, wet waves shivered me awake to the light. I took a deep breath in, feeling my limbs plump and swell. My breath caught. There he was.

The End.

A little bit of green

Then some more leaves.

A lawnmower.

Almost dead.

A few more leaves

red and green.

A weed wacker.

Gone.