They called themselves chowlings, two little souls, who giggled as they parted me from the earth, my home.I would eventually become part of their celebration, is this what my purpose was all along?
It’s lovely to hear laughter around me, though I can feel myself slowly wither, my foliage burning from the luminescent bulbs that lay against me. They gather a multitude of ornaments to decorate me, it’s heavy. They call me beautiful, this will be the last time.
I cannot see, but I can feel the warmth of a fire. It’s to my right and the two, that go by the name of Wish and Jangle, giggle to my left.
They speak of a sugary item, candy canes. The laughter rings so loud as who I assume to be Wish chases Jangle around with a sharpened Candy Cane. They jest, their laughter will be the last thing I hear in my lifetime. I wonder what usage I’ll give once this celebration is over.
I hear fumbling beneath me, consistent placement of objects beneath me. They’re supporting my extremities that are dropping, struggling to stand.
I find myself highly concerned about what and when I’ll start to fade, I’ll be here for a few more days I know. These children seem productive, I know they are not aware of my consciousness so I cannot blame them for my pain.
It is insane to think of how evolution created us with different capabilities. They bring me both Joy and Pain during my end.
Wish has become a source of comfort.
The tiny one consistently makes sound, whether it be a hiss or a giggle, their existence is very evident. They call these objects beneath me gifts, Wish has shook so many of them when Jangle isn’t around. I wonder what they look like, what they are doing. The tearing of paper, followed by a scrambling and the sound of tape being ripped. What a character, a funny and chaotic one.
Jangle, sweet Jangle. They sleep near me at times. A very endearing and soft character. I’ve learned a lot from this duo since my decline, mostly from Jangle. Wish hardly ever says anything coherent. They gather on Christmas Day, open the “gifts.” And then my purpose is met. Their happiness, the cost of my life. I enjoyed hearing the laughter so much.
Maybe in my next life I can join them.
Wish, grant me a wish if you can, buddy.
I’ll keep you warm and happy for now with the time I was granted.
Thank you Wish and Jangle, for making me more beautiful, for providing laughter and knowledge.
I spent decades in the same daily routine, I can progress and be something more in the next life.
Merry Christmas, Little Ones.
(462 Words (FT preferred), two chows Wish/Jangle.
Diary Type Entry from a Conscious Tree.
