the tree

the tree was such a dark brown that it was nearly black. it wasn't exactly tall, but it wasnt short either. hundreds of initials carved into the bark covered the surface of the tree, revealing the fleshy pale color underneath. the branches were as thick and strong and easy to climb on, like a comforting father's arms. the tree felt ancient, mythical, tall and proud. it was a shady storytime tree from a fairy tale, sitting in the middle of a modern park filled with pigeons, dog walkers, and lovers. it was ridiculously out of place. the tree was a gruff old man with a twinkle in his eye. it was jaded, yet happy as a child. the tree stood there, taking the embarrassment of its inappropriate setting the best it could, and permitting a small child with skin the color of its bark to hide among the branches.