Chosen
There was a lone tree atop a hill, old and gnarled, bearing the wounds of a lengthy life. We saw it standing out in the distance against a cloudless sapphire sky when we took the path beyond the village on a lazy summer afternoon. Its wood was dark, and its leaves shone brilliantly in the sunlight like delicate emerald flames.
"It's as if it was calling out to us," you said as we ran along the narrow path, heading for the lake where we planned to meet the other kids and play and swim until late evening. You were right; I also felt some force pulling me magnetically towards the tree as the branches swayed in the warm breeze, waving arms inviting us to climb the steep hill. You stopped. "Imagine looking down from there. We could see the entire valley; our village, the forest, the highway..."
"We'll visit it," I promised. "And we'll look down from there. But not now." Our friends were waiting for us. I grabbed your hand, and we continued running side by side, our bare feet kicking up clou
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