Feb 15, 2012
The evening air pumped through my lungs and up my cortex and I remembered how running used to clear my head. It made me forget how much it hurt from my injury and assorted wrestling matches, but I found myself at the intersection of what happens next and what do I do about it? I guess my head wasn't that clear.
Here’s what I knew, Winston Smoke, was your typical spoiled rich boy turned bitter old man obsessed with controlling the world one little tree at a time, but unable to control his own personal branch of the family, his daughter Delicacy. Did her name mean she was frail and dainty or something that made your mouth water?
Did I meet Smoke’s rival in Flo’s Shop, a well-dressed gorilla named Hugo or was Hugo part of Smoke’s cadre of Nountown intimidators? Was Hugo the Mr. Wiper that Buttercup and Corncob talked about? The one who seemed to be in charge of cost containment? Was Hugo Mimi’s Uncle?
Why was Flo providing a front that went beyond the 44 Double-Ds lifters she provided and why did all the women around seemed to need them, while all the men needed lifts in their shoes.
Where did my captors take me?
I heard that the roots of a tree were as long as the tree was tall, but roots of evil knew no bounds. Because evil lives in the hearts of men.
It all comes down to real estate. Wars are fought over it. Fortunes are built on it. People are chased from it. Land is king.
Miniature trees offer no shade, no sap, no place for nests, no building materials, just man-made perceived value. Perfect little symbols of Nountown had become. The smaller they were, the more valuable they became. Like the men. But top heavy, like the women.
But was it all just about trees? It was my job to know things. What I knew, was what I didn’t know. And how long would they keep paying me to do that?