The Golden Oath
The first thing you notice about the willow is how it shivers, even when the wind holds its breath. It is a strange, rhythmic tremor, like a limb held up against a fever. I see it from the window of my office on the fourteenth floor, a sliver of green in the concrete canyon of Midtown. We are told that willows are resilient, that they bend so they do not break. But looking at it now, in the...
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