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Grey. Everything is grey. The sky and the rain, the earth and the cities. Even the sidewalk under me is a dirty grey. But it wasn’t always this way. That is why it rains. The sky weeps for what is no more. He tries in vain to cleanse his sister, the earth, of the filthy cities that have destroyed her. The sky remembers. I remember…

Luscious green leaves cover the trees. Birds call shrilly to one another. A chipmunk scrabbles around in last year’s brown leaves, looking for food. The trees…

The sky remembers the woods and the trees. I remember too. Sometimes I wonder if I should. If I continue to remember, I’ll be the only one.

A stream gurgles carelessly as it flows along its winding, whimsical path. Silver fish scales flash and sparkle in the dappled sunlight that filters through the leaves above. The leaves that grow on the towering trees. The trees…

I remember, but for how much longer? Everyone is getting the memory wipe, maybe I should too. Perhaps they’re right; perhaps it is better to just forget. After all, it’s like they say; people cannot long for what they do not know. Or remember.

Autumn. The trees are covered in a rainbow of warm colors. Red, gold, and orange leaves twirl and swirl on a sudden gust of wind that blows them away from their mother trees. The breeze dies and the leaves slowly float down and come to land on a dark pond, creating ripples that grow and spread to encompass the entire expanse of water. The ripples die at the edge, at the feet of the trees. The trees…

Everywhere I go, I see the Marks on people, the circle of small dots on the side of the forehead that shows the memories of free nature have been erased. But I don’t want to forget. I want to remember the beauty, even as painful as it is.

A hawk wheels majestically through the skies as it searches the faraway ground for its elusive prey. On the distant ground, a small blue flower stretches its neck to the sky, as if wishing for wings so that it may fly. A shadow falls over the flower, the shadow of a lofty tree, which also stretches its branches to the heavens above. The trees…

I want to remember the trees and the birds not in cages. I want to remember free nature.

My feet, however, are traitors. They have obeyed the orders of my mind, if not the orders of my heart, and have led me to my destination. Now I walk through the dark doorway into the dimly lit room. An adult in a white lab coat leads me into a back room, and I sit down in what looks like a dentist’s chair.
Perhaps I shouldn’t go through with this. I could speak right now, tell the person in the white coat to stop, that I’ve changed my mind. Yeah, maybe I could wait. I’ve still got a little more time to remember.
The person in the white lab coat has come back in and pointed a machine at me. Little red dots of light shine on my head and focus in a circle on the side of my forehead.
I should speak, but I can’t make my mouth work. It’s now or never, and it can’t be never! I have to remember, I have to remember free nature and the trees. The trees…
The trees…
Remember…





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