Dead Dogs Don't Roll OverWritten by: Alex Sandell

Chapter 4
The Dream Tree

All interest in any other earthly matter fades away as my eyes latch onto the dream tree. Everyday, during the shuttle ride to work, this magical tree momentarily takes away all my concerns and just lets me dream.

I dream of a life consisting in only that tree. I think about how pleasant it would be to spend the entire day up in its branches, chewing a twig. I would no longer worry about antiperspirants, fiancées that never tell the truth and stupid shuttle-bus rides to a meaningless job.

Once every fifteen minutes a shuttle would drive past my tree, hauling employees off to work. I would just sit up in my tree taunting them. "I don't have to work and I spend my whole life in a tree," I would yell. I'd watch all of the little humans pass, they would be filled with envy when they see that I'm eating a twig.

Then I realize human instincts would overcome my simple tree life and I would desire a companion. Sure, a wet leaf and my hand could suffice for a while, but eventually, I'd want someone else to share in my tree. I envision Sue Vollman, the sexiest girl in the world, and the one that I can never get out of my limited mind.

It amuses me how madly I am in love with a girl whose greatest compliment to me has been telling me that I am "sorta funny once in a while," when I'm not being "completely obnoxious." Sue is only half-aware that I consider her the most gorgeous girl at work.

I hint at my heart's longing, but have yet to find the nerve to tell her that I think she is the most radiant girl in the world. I can only ask her what's being served for dinner when I try to find the words to tell her that she is much more than just "Mrs. Girl at Work that I have Fallen in Lust With 1995."

I would definitely opt to have Sue up in my dream tree. Her long, dark hair flowing gracefully in the wind, along with the leaves. Her wide, dazzling eyes staring deep into mine. Her perfect breasts and broad, colorful smile would alleviate any boredom that my tree could possibly bring. Each night I'd hold her tender body in my arms and kiss her one time for each star in the sky.

Everyday for lunch, I'd make her branch stew and she would give me a big hug and tell me "it’s the best branch stew I’ve ever tasted," even though it's the exact same recipe as before. We would watch people pass by, drooling in envy as they see us. Two of God's creatures, possessing a deep love and serenity that surpasses any that an ordinary mortal can procure, chewing on leaves and never having to work.

Everyday I'd write a poem about her and the tree. This would be all I could write about because it would be all that I know.

"Oh, sweet tree, I love all your leaves
almost as much as the girl beside me.
Your long, cozy branches and her
long spiral hair.
I see the others pass by us,
but we don't have a care.
Spending hours amused by my thumb,
my tree girl is laughing,
because she is dumb."

After describing our simple lives in this simple poem, the tree girl and I would sprawl ourselves out and make love on a branch. What a dream tree it would be.

With the grating sound of brakes squealing, my dream comes to a screeching halt. I look to my right and see the employee entrance and a bunch of tuxedo clad folks smoking a quick cigarette before giving their life away for a lousy check. I hear the shuttle door open and move to the front of the bus. My miniscule moment of freedom has ended . . . I’ve arrived at my job.

Go to: Chapter 5

©1997 Alex Sandell but, if you're a book publisher and, you wanna get this puppy out, please get in touch with me, hand me a nice, big contract and, of course, a 12 pack of Grape Soda and maybe we can do lunch.

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