athling2001 presents Friday Fictioneers and asks that we create a story of fiction that is no more than 100 words and also has a beginning, middle, and end. Below is my contribution.
Once, a solitary tree stood on a hill, observing life’s eons. A boy found solace in its shade, escaping the scorching trials of youth. He carved, “Hope” into its bark. Seasons turned; the boy, now a man, weathered by time, sought the tree again. The scar had deepened, but so had its meaning. Under the tree’s unwavering stance, he understood: life’s beauty lies in its impermanence, the pain in growth. As the sun dipped below the horizon, he left, carrying the quiet strength of the tree within. The tree remained, a silent testament to resilience and the etchings of hope.
Here’s an image that reflects the story’s theme, capturing the enduring presence of hope as represented by the solitary tree on a hill.
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