The Magic Willow Tree Short Story

The Magic Willow Tree stands out in the clump of bushes and dead redwoods like a bright blue stone in surrounded by grey pebbles. Arvati, my little sister and I go there every night, after my mom shrieks had silenced and my dad 's drunken state had driven him into the a stupor. I would take her hand and push her outside, away from the smoky scent and smell of whiskey into the fresh air, tinted with pollution, but undoubtedly cleaner than the stench that invested my nightmares when I stayed “home”.

Today, it was my sisters 7th birthday. She had no one the acknowledge it except me so I made sure to make it special. In the morning, I woke her up and pointed the distance. She understood it immediately. I raced her to the tree

It was Arvati that found the tree. She had demanded that

And then, I push her hard down the branch. The momentum does the rest. Arvati, never having been on a car (we’ve seen a few though) is never used to motion except the ones explicity controled by herself. She opens her eyes immediately, shrieking as the exihilaration, crying and laughing at the same time. When she sees the pillow, she yells. “I’m in a clloud. I’m flying! I’m flying!!!!” The branch is so long, it takes 1 full minuts to get down. When we are through, she squeels into my arm and says, “I flew on a cloud.. I actually flew on a cloud!!”

I’m a bit guilty to say that I ignored the rest of her rant. I was thinking about how naive she was and how nice it would be to actually fly. I had seen these man-made birds in the sky a few times. Maybe they could hold people...

For the rest of the morning, we laid down on the new (now horribly dirty but my sister didn’t care) pillow and looked at clouds. Clouds only looked like blobs to me but Arvati has a knack for connecting anything to the cloud.

“See the bear?” She said today.

I scanned the sky and sighed. “No I don’t.”

“ I’m going to name her Honey... and she is my best