Feb 2, 2023
I remember being a tree. A pine tree. I remember watching my younger brothers and sisters die in a fire and knew I wanted to die slowly. I wanted to rot into the ground and become food for my children. I wanted to be like my grandfather’s that I devour for my own nutrients. Now it feels as if I will live forever, though I know that not to be true. Now I observe humans, and provide a stable place for them to have nutrients. I am known as the kitchen table and I have felt the cut of knives as carrots and things are prepared for this human family on me. First and foremost I am the observer, and I will be till I rot. I still remember that from my time in the forest.
