Write about: the tree.
Max has kindly shared his cold with both Kat and myself. Generous little fellow, isn't he?
First morning of work with our farm intern went pretty well. Hoping I won't have to send her out to the garden on her own tomorrow morning because I'm stuck in bed.
Roots twist and turn deep into the earth, searching for something long forgotten. Something secret. Something infused with old words and older magic.
Something best left undisturbed.
Still it reaches, safely out of sight. High above, in the warmth of the sun and shade of its boughs, children play and couples picnic. Laughter fills the air, tears slip from eyes, wine stains the ground.
Wait... no... who spilled the bottle? What fool gave this monstrous tree the power it needed to complete its search?
Too late... much too late. All that is left for us now is to pray.