Description
The little red robin with the tiny white feather perches herself on the highest branch of the tree. It’s a large oak tree that she sits on. It has branches of every shade of brown; even that reddish brown colour she loved. It’s the tallest, grandest tree in the area; that’s why she loved it. The little red robin with the tiny white feather had that in common with her. The emerald green leaves cover most of the branches but the one she used to swing on has no leaves. It has a single, tattered piece of rope hanging off of it. At the end of the rope is a small black tire that’s tied on. I walk over to the tire and run my smooth hand across the rough surface. Then I look up. I can see the morning sun strongly beating through the curtain of green leaves protecting me. I notice the robin. She stares at me. Small black eyes looking at me curiously. “Is that you, Scarlett?” I ask the little red robin. The robin just looks at me for a moment longer before gracefully flying off singing a beautiful song. I stare at the where the red robin had been thinking about nothing in particular; besides Scarlett of course.
Prologue
