He was just a tree. Well, mostly. He was the only tree in the whole forest who had hands at the ends of his branches. The others didn’t talk to him much, mostly since they didn’t have mouths. Tom could tell though, that they thought he was strange. Whenever he swayed to, they swayed fro. He creaked and they groaned.
Tom’s hands were many. What Tom wanted most in the world was something for his hands to do. He could swat away the wood peckers, but they were otherwise underutilized. If only his branches had elbows to bend at.
corkedbottle 