Every spring, the tree outside my window is last to bloom. Why should he procrastinate while his peers along my street embrace the season? Does he fear change, holding tightly to the present? What past trauma haunts him? Every fall, he waits almost until the frost to drop his leaves.
Illustrated by Jason Viola of ManateePower.com
Story originally published on March 24, 2011
-
jasonviola reblogged this from tinstories
-
tinstories posted this
