The tree is a time machine.
I was in the carpark watching and waiting for the cars to pass. I wanted it to be a little bit quieter, have fewer eyes on me for when I would walk over to the tree.
And then that bell would sound and they would all flood away and I was left waiting for the bad weather to envelope me. Thankfully, that day, the weather was normal, no storms and no rain, no thorns and no pain.
My leg dragged me over to the tree, quite crisply and coyly on the sun dried eucalyptus leaves. My tattered overalls sloshed in the thick hardened muddy grass. My boots made clapping noises on the dead ground.
Watch as the last few left and I snuck through a small gap in the fencing to reach a tree which opened on one side and sheltered from the sun.
I went and I sat there, my hands in my pockets, my boots on the ground. I sat there for a while and saw as the lights in the sky appeared, as they always did. They were red, then green. Merry Christmas, I thought to myself – my imaginary present.
Then the lights stopped, I closed my eyes and opened them again. I walked and kept walking, my boots on the tanbark, my head filled with the nonsense from the day. The black handrails that covered the area were rusted and peeling.
The blue and black demure young dinosaur, roughly 10 feet tall, approached me from behind, his head against my back. At first I thought maybe, a man was there to tell me off or maybe a curious child. But no, I turned around and it was indeed a dinosaur…
Read full story here: https://medium.com/@rishabh.bhargava.16/the-paradox-7-part-1-578670dee3c0
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