The Green Wars
It started with one sapling, an ugly, awkward thing sprouting at the very corner of the rubber-matted playground. Why Henry never mowed it down, we’ll never know. Maybe his mower couldn’t snag that corner. Why none of us thought to pluck it up, why we let Violet water it and weed around it…
Violet, with her pretty eyes and shy smile. She seems to have grown as quickly as that sapling. She rides in its branches now, leading the lot of them right down the middle of our quiet little street.
Dad, ax in hand, curses the developers who overlooked the seeds.
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