The Old Willow

Where it began

There's an old willow tree, down at Feldman's Park. I used to go there often, laying down on my back and peering into the sky through its long branches, and watching as the severed rays of sunlight helped to cast shadows onto the grass as the afternoon changed to evening. I had never expected anyone to join me in my strange hobby, but I suppose now that it was inevitable. On a sunny afternoon, after a particularly bothersome day at school, I had been studying a specific branch of the tree that was oddly thinner than the others, when a pair of bright blue eyes appeared above me. I sat up quickly, startled, and the stranger backed up, smirking slightly. It was a girl, about my age, with golden hair and large blue eyes. She was holding a rather large stack of books, one of which she had to stoop down to pick up off of the ground.

"Why are you lying under a tree?" The girl asked in a rather amused tone.

"Why are you carrying a stack of books?"

She glanced down at her sizable heap of books, which was on the verge of tipping, "Fine, you win." She said, sounding somewhat defeated. Now it was my turn to smirk at her.

"Would you like to join me?" I inquired of the girl, for she seemed like she would be good company.

Now she smiled brightly, "Only if you'll read one of my books."

And so that afternoon, the girl, Leila was her name, laid under the tree with me, and the two of us read her books until the moon replaced the sun, and the stars were visible through the cracks in the willow's canopy.

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