Untitled mango stories
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alexandercools
alexandercools Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   16 days ago
People always looked at my mango tree, and when I opened the window, it was gone.

I had a little mango tree once and oh, it looked adorable. It had something innocent, more innocent than a child. I cannot fully describe it.

It stood near the window in my living room, which was at ground floor. Behind the window there were always people passing by, it was a busy street.

Sometimes they gazed at the little tree, one person in particular. She was beautiful lady, probably in her early 30's.

She wore high heels, black jeans and a golden bracelet which brought an interesting contrast to her brown hair. Often, she came around four o' clock, after her work I think.

She watched the little tree, quickly, for a second, before she went further, probably to her warm home with her husband waiting for her to come.

My room was warm too, you see, the little tree liked it. And so after a few weeks of people passing by, taking a look at him, I opened the window.

It was in the midst of January and freezing outside, snowing. The streets were still decorated with Christmas lights and benches covered with snow didn't get anyone to sit on them.

It was a sight to behold, my little mango tree with the window open and the white streets behind it. But the little guy didn't like it that much.

It didn't move but it shivered harder than any human could. The window was open for a few more days. One time I went to get a cup of tea, came back and the tree was gone. The whole pot was gone.

I knew who took it. She did, obviously. Some people really do care about all life, I thought. I wasn't sad. Not sadder than otherwise. The tree was after all, better off with her than with me.

He was better off with a stranger. And now I didn't have to tell the cat in my garden I let another plant die on me. Great. A week of me gazing at people walking in the cold went by. I watched them from the place where my tree used to be.

And the people who expected to see the little tree on their daily commute but found me, instead, looking into and beyond their eyes, quickly turned their head and none of them returned.

I stood up at a time, around four o' clock, made some tea and came back to find her behind the window staring into and beyond my eyes.

I didn't expect to ever see her again, but there the stranger was. She didn't turn her head and neither did I. I never felt more seen.

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