The Pomegranate Trees

"Sure." Your mother kisses you lovingly on the head, "Just be sure to finish your chores and stay safe."

"Of course, Mother. Have a nice time in town!"

Your mother plops on her flower-covered straw hat and walks out the door. Instantly you slip into your cleanest dirty clothes and your only pair of shoes. You are going out.

You close the front door and the rusty iron gate and step outside the fence. Standing on the dusty footpath, you head in the direction opposite of town.

It is a horrible day. The sun is hot and bright and there is not a single cloud in the sky. A drop of sweat rolls from your forehead down the slope of your nose to the very tip. You swipe it away violently. As you trudge along, you begin to consider returning home. Until a patch of shade catches your feet.

You lift your head to see an army of trees standing close as sentries. They call to you. You are filled with determination.