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Shattered Pieces
The cool breeze tousled the leaves and tried to no avail to free the dark brown strands from their black elastic prison. A chill running down my spine and roughening flesh made me grasp at the soft edges of my sweatshirt, pulling it tighter to my body. A small, reluctant smile spread across an unwilling face.
Unsteady, my small, fragile fingers grasped at the thick bough to keep from falling to the ground far below. Sucking in a sharp breath, I jerked my hand back to scowl at the tiny splinter in my callused palm. The cascade of colors that should have been painting the sky flowed and ebbed behind patches of rolling gray clouds. I clung desperately to the last moments of light as the harmonic sound of settling animals filled the stilling air.
Before the sky grew completely dark, I clambered down. My feet thumped on soft peat and jarred my body when I dropped from the last foothold. The first cold drops hit my face once the cover of the leaves fell behind. I was sent reluctantly dashing across open lawn, grasping the door handle as a shudder inducing rumble shook the world. The crack that followed forced me through the feeble screen door.
It sounded like the storm had truly begun, but the next morning I would wake to find that it was not the downpour of water and clashing of temperatures that had frightened me. My secret perch, the place where the mountains and valleys could be observed by curious eyes, would be splintered and broken. The place where I had once sat would be where the massive trunk had split down the middle to lie in shattered pieces splayed across the lawn. Even young as I was, tears did not roll down my cheeks, but my stomach felt as though it had dropped to my feet. The world and its wonderous possibilities seemed to close like a great oak door, keeping me out forever.

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