The two men ascend the hill from opposite sides, shadows stretching long in the fading light of the day. The tree stands at the summit, stark against the bleeding sky, a witness to countless stories. Their silhouettes, dark and sharp, are like echoes of one another; a reflection or perhaps a warning.
They meet under the branches as the sun sinks lower, their words carried away by the whisper of the wind. It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last, that such a meeting takes place. A decision is made, though the night hides its true weight. By morning, only the tree will remember.