An apple tree in Winchester was the last remaining tree on a plot set for development. A little boy, emotionally attached to the tree, cried during its destruction, recalling the moments spent together after school. As the tree was cut down, it hid its last ripe apples among the leaves to express gratitude to the boy. The adults proceeded with the clearing to make way for a multi-million dollar house, dismissing the boy's pleas.
The little boy pleaded to all not to cut me down. The adults knew it would be of no use. They were clearing the plot to construct a multi-million dollar house there.
When they started cutting me the next morning, the boy ran away, shedding tears, remembering the days he spent in my company after coming home from school.
As I fell slowly with a muffled roar, I hid my last couple of ripe apples among the leaves: my way of saying thanks to him.
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