Alia Ginevra Seasons

“Seasons”- A Short Story by Alia Ginevra As the seasons of our lives go by I lay there in silent reflection. My grave being the surrounding grounds of grey leaves, my corpse being decayed bark that was left to dry, and another brief wind without any answers passes. However, wisdom has etched my rings over the past decades, and I want pass some valid words of advice to this special young sapling. Besides, they didn't call me the haunted tree for nothing. A little boy lay on me, and his breath was so hard it swelled the fresh cut near my roots. His tears filled the spirals within my bark, and his face was as sorrowful as the one that was stamped on my trunk. He had been crying on top of me for at least an hour, and finally he was starting
You see that tree out the window?” the man pointed to the lifeless pile of bark emist the sea of fertile vegetation. The man was pointing to me in an imagined state. The little boy replied “ Yes what about a dead tree?”. The man continued “ Well that tree evoked the princes creativity. He began to paint it as it was just an adolescent seedling. The truth is, the prince didn't just fall in love with the tree, he had also fell in love and wed a fair maiden ” the man testified. The boy inferred “its grandma isn't it”. The man just continued,“ So as his love had bloomed, the tree also continued to grow prosperously. The tree had received its first branches as well as leaves of foliage. While the tree was growing, the princes maiden also announced that the couple would be having a baby princess. Just as that occurred, coincidentally he had to take a break from painting the tree considering he was very busy with his royal duties as a father” continued the man. “So he had left the painting to be for a long time, and had almost forgotten about it completely. Many seasons had passed and the tree had grown old with him. It's branches were now tall but frail, and it's leafs were now nonexistent. Just as
His maiden had fallen ill, similarly to the tree” the man stopped talking for a second and took a deep breath. The little boy interrupted, “ Grandpa, it's ok, start when 'you're ready because I want to hear the end of the story”. The man eyed the tree and then continued. “ Unfortunately the maiden had passed away, and the prince was in mourning for a long time. After this had happened, the only way for the prince to escape his pain was to do art, so he went back to making crafts of artistry. One day he was digging through supplies looking for a fine tipped paint brush. He was absolutely shocked when he had found his half finished canvas, barren on the top. After finding this he realized that he wanted to continue painting this gorgeous tree. So he headed outside looking for the tree, however he was surprised to find it laying on the dank soil. It had been cut down because it was dead. He began to weep knowing he had lost more than one thing he cherished. However, he realised that life went in full circles, and similarly to the tree’s, his life did too. Every time something miraculous happened to his family, the tree was prosperous. Every time something