Paranoia
By Melanie Ann Billings

The tree bit me.

I took for granted it was solid, but as I extended a forefinger, I found it to be soft. It was upon this discovery that another discovery was made: that of teeth, and it bit me.

“Ouch,” I said.

“Ouch,” said the tree.

“You bit me,” I pointed out.

“You poked me,” countered the tree.

The tree had a point, but my finger was sore and I did not feel that a poke justified a bite. I decided to pursue the matter. I reached out and poked the tree.

Again, it bit me.

“Ouch,” I said.

“Serves you right,” the tree said.

This was certainly true, but I was not going to give into a tree, soft and squishy, or otherwise.

“Tree, you’ve got a problem.”

“I’ll say,” the tree remarked.

“You are different from all the other trees in this forest.”

“Oh, I know.” The tree sighed.

That the tree knew it was different startled me a bit. But then, as I thought about the strange happenings of the day, I realized that I should not be surprised. After all, a rock had tripped me earlier and grass (when I stepped on it) had thrown itself at me in handfuls. I was beginning to feel very insecure and slightly paranoid.
“But you know, tree,” I was going to attempt appeasement after all, “there’s nothing wrong with being different...” And then, after an awkward silence, “I’m sorry I poked you, tree.”

The tree perked up somewhat. It held itself a bit straighter and manifested a light green glow. It began to very softly hum, “Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!”

I decided it was time to take my leave.

“Good-bye, tree.” I paused for effect. “Have a nice day and watch out for stray fingers.”

The tree kept humming away, waving its branches for greater emphasis on each “Hallelujah.”

As I walked past the tree, I reached out and poked it several times in different places. Then, taking a step back, I laughed hysterically.

Time was lost to me. Years and more flew by as my new objective took hold—running through forests and poking trees. The hills rang with maniacal laughter.

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After four years at Roberts Wesleyan College, Melanie graduated in 1997 with a bachelor’s degree in her double major of English and Communication. Marriage and becoming a mother put her dream of being a full-time writer on hold. In order to keep up with all things written, Melanie has dabbled joyfully in freelance editing and proofreading work over the years. This dabbling has given her new excitement over the prospect of seeing her own writings published. She has the love and encouragement of her husband and two boys, and hopes to extend that love and encouragement to everyone around her. Melanie has a compilation of poetry, Climbing the Mountain: Inspirational Christian Poetry, available from Whiskey Creek Press (www.whiskeycreekpress.com) in both electronic and paperback format.