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The Willow Tree

I’ve always liked to lay in the shade of the old willow tree, dozing off into dreamland, especially on a hot summer day. But on this day everything seemed different, the sky seemed darker, there was a feeling of uneasyness hanging in the air that I guess you can say made me paranoid.

There was a strong breeze, then a strange man appeared. He was an odd fellow, who looked to belong in Victorian times. The strange man took one glance at me and looked toward a gathering of people.

“Your funeral?”

“Yes,” I responded, the man took out a small journal.

“Death by fallen tree branch?”

“Yes” I responded again.

“Ok, seems all is in order here, good day sir,” and just like that everything became swallowed by darkness, except the old willow tree.

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