I sat beneath the window of the treehouse that the three of us have called our second home for two decades now. Ethan, Marie, and I had a rough childhood, and now that our parents are living without their three children, they have decided to move out. Between the pair of them, they have decided to tear down the treehouse as the first step of packing up the house.

I mostly snuck out to reminisce, ...

“I wanna build a treehouse, mommy”

I wish I were that child

I wish a were still pretending to live

A life that was untamed and wild

I wish I still pretended

That I had kids of my own

I wish I still pretended to have

A house in a tree for a home

I wish that cooking was magic

That laundry appeared in my drawer

I wish that I could go camping

In blanket tents on the living room floor.

I wish that l...

WARNING: Mild violence and scary content not recommended for young children and people with delicate or fragile dispositions viewer discretion is advised.

“Are we nearly there?” Draya asked me yet again.

“Almost, really angel I have never heard you complain so much before.”

“Sorry but my hair keeps getting caught on branches and I swear I have a rock or something in my boot and I never liked bu...

Laughter rings out.

Her hair is being braided neatly.

A smile appears on her face.

One wink of his green eye.

He finishes her braid.

A smirk appears on his face.

Card games.

Magic tricks.

Secrets.

All up in the tree.

Birthdays.

Goodbyes.

Laughter.

And sadness.

All up in the tree.

Tears.

Pain.

Comfort.

All up in the tree.

Teasing.

She shoves him.

Meant playfully.

But received harder than int...

All the wood in the treehouse was warped. It’d groaned with the wind as he’d ascended the ladder, and now it groaned under his feet as he stood above the open hatch.

The interior wasn’t much to write home about. It was a small, square space, sparsely furnished, unless you counted all the dust mites.

Thomas pressed his cardigan sleeve to his nose, trying to stop the stench of mould settling in ...

A treehouse must have an evacuation chute. Let me just repeat that, please. A treehouse MUST have an evacuation chute. Not necessarily because you need to protect yourself from all the danger that may come by you while you are up there exploring among the canopy, but because it is so much FUN!! Does anybody still remember that word or has it gone extinct? Just imagine, every time you need to get...

I’ve had this treehouse on my property for generations. I remember holding my club there for 6 summers. It was an all girl group for afternoon play dates and sleepovers.

I outgrew that club, but loved to go to that treehouse for solitude and contemplation as a teenager. I was often morose and saw that treehouse as a refuge. Then I got medicine for my depression and started to have a social life ...

Foul ichor coats lazy hands. Scrabbling, gripping, clinging claws. Rough lichen encrusts. Slick wet mould hangs. Hastily formed skeleton rattles. Higher and higher. Nose pressed to coarse skin. Fingers grazed and trapped. Heavy boots cracked against worn rungs.

Until with a final heave, the body slipped cumbersomely snake-like onto the rotten decking. Clothes caked in grime, slime and who knows ...

I don’t know.

The treehouse was oddly quiet. It was many years ago since I last spent some time here. The wind blew through the cracks as the sun was going down. I sighed and climbed in. The wood was sturdy but worn by weather.

I caressed the cracks in the wood and whispered his name. “Tommy.” It was cold. I closed my jacket and fixed my hat. It looked like it would rain.

And there it was. F...

After supper,in my backyard high up in the oak tree. I climb 20 feet up a ladder to a platform that holds my tree house. The door is short so I crawl in and head to my window seat. I have four windows-one on each side. Beside my window seat is my bookshelf. I pull out a fantasy book with elves and dragons inside.My cat, Sylvester, climbs on my lap while I read one chapter. Then I look at my roc...