Untitled, by Laurie Boris (posted with permission)


He was the only one left of his kind, and the sadness of that knowledge bent his bones. Each season, when the sun heated his branches and unfurled his leaves, he dared to hope that a sprout would crack the earth, another like him. Some had tried. One brave sapling pushed its fresh shoots to the light. But, starved for nutrients, it only shriveled back into the ground, wasted. Again, this happened, and again. Until finally he realized: Thick and ravenous, his own roots were choking the new ones, and while he existed he would always be alone.  http://laurieboris.com

Image credit: hotblack, via morguefile.com (used under license)

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
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One Response to Untitled, by Laurie Boris (posted with permission)

  1. How beautiful and sad at the same time. Laurie, you know how to tug at the heart.

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