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Heat #65

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"No, no!" cried Archie, "Stop it, stop it, you can't- "
His words were barely understandable, his sobbing was desperately intense as he stood shaking like some misshapen, diseased sapling. I shook my head in disgust. Could he not see the strength of the trees, their roots solid in the earth, unlike his roots skimming the ground? Could he not see the yearning of Lastwailing Wood, its dependence on us, could he not see its trees lean forward towards us to watch us perform a miracle for them? Could he not - ?
No, of course he couldn't: he was Archie.

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