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His Wife's Tree

By , Atlanta, GA
If you drive down highway 35, get off at exit 17 A, and turn onto Joy Road you find a big gray barn accompanied by a decadent brick house. If you continue up the driveway and walk through the rotten, wooden door you will find a plain home consisting of a living room, kitchen, bedroom, and one bathroom, each containing no more than the basic necessities. The only personal object you will find in this home is a picture of a young, beautiful woman holding a small seed smiling happily into the camera. The same woman that haunts the elderly mind of the farmer that resides in the house. This man spends his days sitting in the barn staring at the ceiling, lying in bed, gazing at the picture, but most of his time is spent underneath the tree in his front yard. This tree however is no ordinary tree. This tree came from the seed the woman in the picture was holding. This tree was grown and cared for by her. This tree was, to him, her legacy and the last tangible memory he had of her.
Decades earlier as the couple had just become married lovers and moved into their beautiful and strong brick house, they found a seed. This seed was planted, cared for, and grown by them, until the day came when they were forced to move into the city. His wife had become terribly ill, developing the fatal and terrible disease of cancer. He took care of her like no other man had cared for his wife before, never leaving her side, and fulfilling her every wish. A few years later, after many hopes and despairs, she passed away.
The man felt empty. He had a giant void in his heart, his life, and returned to the one place he thought he could feel something again, feel her again. He returned back to his lovely abode on Joy Road. As he arrived, he came to an abrupt stop right in front of his house, and not seeing anything else ran to the blooming tree in his front yard. Without looking at the tree itself, he picked the first fruit he saw and stared in awe. He had never seen such bright and beautiful foods. Slowly he brought the mysterious substance to his mouth, breathing in as he took his first bite. He closed his eyes and exclaimed, “This is the worst God damn food I ever had!” He stormed away in anger, wondering how his wife’s precious treasure could have ended up being so terrible. As he slammed the door of his truck he finally took one angry look at the tree, which provided him with the disgusting fruit. He looked, he stared, he slowly stepped out of the truck, and began to cry. Never had he seen a tree so strong or so beautiful. His insides began to tear as he thought of his beloved wife, the home they shared, and this magnificent tree they watched over together, and knew his wife’s presence would forever live and breathe in the tree, because even though it’s fruit may have not tasted so good, that was what his wife did. She made the bad look good. That’s why she married him.





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