The Tree, Part 2, by J. W. Cassandra

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he extirpates the forests, chases the gain…

„I knew this will be its end!”, the Tree thinks of sad resignation to it, since what else could he do? „I remember the bygone days, humans of millions of years before. They had done the same, waving of their hands for the jeopardy, not caring about anything else but, hoarding of property. And how far have they got? They fell on devastation!”, and the Tree waves of his hand, in thought. Then in his millions of years of memory, occurs the human of earlier epochs: he was identical tiny being compared to the trees, like today but, chased and tormented by immeasurable greed of power and wish of possession… Using artifice, he had reached the exploitation of the nature, later he choked to death lungs, giving life to the planet: the trees.”

And, of course, then the catastrophe came: atmosphere of the planet hadn’t run away, „merely” it transformed. Instead of oxygen, the atmosphere had constituted methane, carbon dioxide, sulphuric gases and human had been living before millions of years, was competent to adapt to it since the trees gradually died out and the atmosphere underwent a gradual transformation into an asphyxiating gas compound, without oxygen. The Tree didn’t know how and what kind of lungs, humans of that time, transformed, in his memory lived only that they became more and more stunted, their bodies slowly grew longer and longer, they reminded on and on less of human with four extremities, who silly devastated even the reason for their very existence. Though, their two legs remained, onto their stunted bodies grew a crown since, they kept yearning for it ever: they wished to rule one and all… Under their crowns their heads grew in the trunk, the crowns expanded to branches, they made grow foliages… The trunk, the body became more and more crusty but, the tree-humans or human-trees had been capable of displacement: at first, they desperately kept running to and fro, they kept lashing with their arms then, only banged the earth with slow steps… Later then, the tempestuous weather raided over the planet: the storm broke out ghastly, lashed along the stumbling human-trees, it washed out the soil from beneath them with its deluge, it decimated them with its thunderbolts, split their trunks and by the time the night-dark cleared up, the rumbling clouds had been blown over  ̶  the sun could gaze down onto the rooted, holding into the soil trees, all over the Earth… The trees were weeping bound to the soil, forced into it. Their foliages rustled, their branches lashed, their moan was heard even to the skies. Since, merely the bodies of the human-trees transfromed into tree:

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J. W. Cassandra

About the Author: J. W. Cassandra

I’m a teacher and a registered author either, at Artisjus as a writer and a poet in Hungary. I love forests, butterflies, flowers.

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