The three sisters stood on the edge of the vast expanse of open ground.

Daylight had almost fled completely before they realized they had lingered

too long by the stream, playing their games, sharing gossip.  Now their

entire family was settled down for the night on the far side of the huge

field.  The old man with the chainsaw perched lazily on the stump of a

large oak he had ruthlessly hewn less than an hour ago.


"'s so FAR!" whimpered the youngest sister. 


"I know," replied the older one, extending her lower branches to reassure

her two siblings. 


"Look!" cried the middle sister. "His eyes are closed.  Perhaps he's sleeping?"


"RUN!" urged the big sister. "RUN as fast as your roots can carry you!"



Jo Anzalone  2004