The leaves crunch under our feet, grass squishing towards the mud as we travel to our favorite spot, the Wishing Tree. We hang out there whenever our emotions get fed up with staying inside our head. We visit often with how much chaos erupts in the city. The stench is unbearable to a point where other flee as well. The animals produce while we wait, rest, until our patience is fed up. After traveling on the moss, it fades into a stony path, one that the moss hasn’t traveled to yet. The bird chirp, the squirrels search, and the bugs crawl. The stony path is cracked from how many years we’ve been walking on it. Nearly a millennium? I’ve lost count too many times. Kayla doesn’t seem to mind, she laughs as she talks about the planting she could do to fix this place up. I nod to her, suggesting some sort of tactic to keep the pollution from ruining the beauty of the plants near the tree. The tree is the heart of the city and yet it repays it with nothing but smoke and rubbish, almost as if they’ve been rivals since the beginning of time.

“Do you think purple roses would fit the theme for this tree? It needs more color Todo!” She squeaks.

“Purple’s a nice color, but what about blue? Matches the sky, and the plant makes it a duller color too.” I replied.

“Ay, you always choose blue.”

“What can I say? It’s the color of the sky, or what’s left of it through the clouds.”

“But why not the color of the sun, eh? It so much brighter and happier than that depressing color.”

“Blue isn’t a depressing color, but I can say the sky does look sadder with the smoke covering most of it.” We continue arguing between the two colors until we arrive at the tree. Its branches droop as it begins to die, its roots still holding onto the concrete for support from the trauma it’s endured.