I came home late last night to find that the pine in front of our apartment had been removed. A crater of loose soil was all that was left, soil that I would normally love to see, imagining what could grow, but now only thinking of what was lost. I stood looking out the window in the dark, crying, looking at the ugly cars with their ugly metal, their ugly shapes.
Goodbye to this view. I'm not a child; I just loved that tree.