(flash story)

How many creatures has he seen and heard in these centuries? And how different they were. Some were wee and fast; others were larger, leisurely walking here and there; there were so small that no one noticed them. But not him. He always knew who came and for whom it was time to leave.

There were also those who harmed him: they broke his hands, burned his skin, pulled out his freckles by the roots. They did not stay long. Although, for a long time, to each his own. For him, a hundred years is a short breath, and for someone, a minute is an eternity.

However, each one was so fascinating, filled with something of its own. He admired the colors that won their souls. So bright and strange. Incredibly similar to a dream. Oh, they were a dream. Just a dream of a giant forest.