Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Long Life Span

Oh, the quietness that envelopes this region of the world echos on the branches of my brethren. I have traced my family tree back to the Garden of Eden, some many years ago. Through the generations, we move farther from the motherland. A saddening thought, to come close to ones own end, knowing you will never reach home in time. My timbers be stripped; logged upon trucks to be hauled to the slaughtering.
Four thousand years have I provided shelter and comfort from the storms, only to be abandoned by those who lived here. The birds, whom I gave refuge, retreat to the hills. The bugs who foraged my leaves burrow in the mud. Where were these creatures of the wild, whom I defended in their weakness? Beast who once thrashed their marks on my trunk, signifying their dominance, now run with fear as the machines roll in.
As I tripped with the instability that comes with age, the past flashed before me. These thoughts remind me of the good times. Taking shade from the elders, and food from the ones decayed, I learned to fend for myself. As a young sprout I was flexible, enduring the worst of weathers, and growing with the strength of a ram. As my rings began to accumulate, my physique was unmatched, and I found it easy to pollinate new offspring. Many years later, looking on my offspring I can only dream of the day these blades break down.
Away from my children they haul me. I assume they want not for my children to know of their evil doings, but they are too late. Many of our ancestors have been fallen in my young sprouts' presence. I have not acquired this many rings with the dullness of a rock, and my seed is abundant with the wisdom that comes from age. I leave this world in confidence, knowing the saplings left behind will endure as I have.

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