I know that my time is soon. It is coming and my leaves have sprouted.

All people of planet Gram grow older, connected, earthier. As bark slides over their pale pink cheeks, they celebrate their relationship with others like them. Them being Arbre.

Arbre have thick, wooden, rough skin and bits of leaves poking through all the roots. I prod the curved, lime-colored one on my shoulder and hold a breath.

I am scared.

Will it hurt?

Will I be the same?

I don’t want my dreams to change.

I don’t want to be on this giant orb forever, I want to leave. I just know that there are other species out there! Species in need! My heart picks up, like a thrumming waterfall, at the thought of all the good I could do.

The traders come every once in a while on their spaceship. Sometimes… I dream about my own spaceship. And crew.

I believe one day I while have this dream in the cup of my hands, though they may be tougher and rougher.

Later…

I feel the growth, but it’s not quite pain. It’s internally soothing. Even as I think, a coiled root sprouts from a fingertip. Approaching my nose a flower sprouts beneath. I inhale the lighthearted fragrance.

How could I reject such a gift? The flower, the protection, the certainty that comes with becoming an Arbre. The gratefulness causes some leaves to perk up along my arms and I smile, I dream. I have not forgotten my dream.

Long time has passed…

I’m bouncing from leg stump to leg stump as the trader ship shuttles to a stop.

I’m ready.

I’m a full Arbre. I can do this.

I’m ready.

I will a flower to grow, a yellow creation with too many soft petals to count. Plucking and resting the innocent bloomer on the ground, I recognize my final mark in this planet.

I stride confidently in. You can get anywhere with confidence, I grin to myself.

There’s no one to the left or the right, so I creep into the now empty storage. A dark corner will do. Sinking low, squeezing into a tight being, I get comfortable. My eyes close.

Anywhere. Bring me anywhere. I am ready.