A short, short story
By Elyssa Nicole Stoner
Once upon a time there was a magic little coffee shop on the corner of Water Street and Main Street. Or at least, it was magical to me as a little 4-year-old girl. The ceiling was painted in green and blue squares, most of the walls were vibrant red, and there was a two-piece panting of a cat on the wall. But the most magical thing was the tree.
“How can a tree grow inside?” I asked the man behind the shiny black grand piano over which the tree stretched. “There’s no dirt…”
“Because it’s a magic tree, baby.” He told me, his fingers traveling over ivory and ebony keys.
I gazed up at the blue lights wrapped around the skinny limbs and the opalescent crystals draped all over and hanging down over the piano as he told me a story of how this tree had grown from a sparkly magic bean.
“So now, if you make a wish on this tree…”
“It’ll come true!” I guessed, jumping with excitement.
And he was right, one day I wished for hot chocolate and there it was, waiting for me in a pretty little cup sitting on one of the round tables. Once I wished for heart-shaped Valentines candies and the next morning I found them under my pillow.
Then one day, I came in and there was no man behind the piano… I looked up at the tree, realizing the lights were off and it looked dead, and wished, “I wish my daddy would come back.”
And that was the first wish that didn’t come true. Because the magic wasn’t in the tree, it was in the man behind the piano…and my daddy was never coming back.
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