Tears refused to stop. The four men continued their assigned task with the help of a huge machine.
That tree was a part of my childhood memories. I was also told that my even my great grand parents have played under its shade.
I touched the bulge in my stomach and cried more. My baby would never be able to climb the tree, fall, get up and climb again. I felt as if a close family member was slaughtered in front of my eyes. I cursed myself for my helplessness.
What can I do? Cry. That’s all.
I did that until I felt week at feet.
PS: Thanks to Rochelle for the image prompt!
PPS: Save trees….