Miss Belief Tree was a whimsical woman who moved to the beat of her own drum or so she thought. She’d been taught all the right moves to perform to the groove of almost any song. Miss Belief Tree was linked to all the lively networks in the city. She was pretty and connected. Her fruit was “me too.” She was smart. She was sassy. She was cool. Miss Belief Tree was nobody’s fool. She had an answer for everything. Miss Belief Tree was the perfect place to sit in the shade. She could cover you while you pick from the stories of her past, all of her “me too’s.” The fruit of her wisdom is like ripe strawberries in season. Her skeptical leafy perspective shifts like the breeze but it makes you all the more at ease at the feet of Miss Belief Tree. She serves you carefully crafted fruit salads served with a smile, knowing the value of the seeds she conceals inside to fill the hollow hole at the heart of her existence. Miss Belief Tree never conceded a thing. She was the law of the land and everyday was spring. She would sprout words and even songs to sing that get people to dance to the rhythm of speculative things. Miss Belief Tree had no substance within. She was shallow and covered herself in the skins of other people’s words, only reproducing what she heard. Miss Belief Tree would appear to be a nerd if you didn’t know she collected the latest verbiage like herbage to get the most attention. One day, Mister Promise Tree heard the tune she was singing and joyfully joined in to the song that never ends. They both enjoy the winds that pass through to carry their words of fruit but will never produce another tree if all they have is promise and belief…

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