Monty had snuck away from town hall for his lunch. It was a bad habit, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but miss the quiet of sitting under his tree after hours stuck in an office.
He always sat on one side, no particular reason why, but today he decided a change of pace was in order catching sight of another figure who seemed to have the same idea he did. He’d never seen them here before.
“This is the best tree... I used to bring my sister here all the time when we were kids.” Monty glanced upwards, palm against the precious trees trunk, “I think… ah, there it is.” He pointed towards a branch, “I used to sit up there all the time. I know it’s that one because there was a family of owls that lived there, see?” Directly adjacent to Monty’s branch was a little hole — the open door to a new bird family’s home. “I used to read to them. Winnie the Pooh and the like — Sorry, don’t mind me.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, sighing in slight exasperation with himself, “I’ve been told I’m overly sentimental. (And talk too much.) — Christ I hate these things.” he loosened his tie, continuing all the same, asking: “Do you mind if I sit? I usually eat my lunch here but don’t want to intrude.”
