The Scream

Many things had changed, but the tree had always been there as long as he had lived. The new house building had destroyed large areas of forest and fields, but it had survived. In his lifetime the worlds population had doubled and five times as many cars now spewed their pollution into the fragile atmosphere. Vast jungles and areas of woodland had been decimated in the name of progress and selfish greed....money speaking louder then the fading whispering of a dying planet. He now realised the tree was dead and had been for a while. As a child they had hidden things in the hole within the trunk....the gaping hole that now looked like a scream. The tree's last cry as the world around it spiralled towards destruction. If he was lucky he had another ten or fifteen years, he knew and accepted it, he'd had a good life. But now in his final years, the responsibility weighed heavy on his generation. They had been less than attentive, they had taken their eye off the ball, they had been more concerned with lining their own nests and pockets, than being guardians protecting the planet for the future. The fossilised, rotting corpse of the tree screamed at him "You!...you did this"

Done