"Tree," by Anjie Seewer Reynolds

When I was a kid, many years ago, I loved riding my bike in the neighborhood. In my memory there was a particular hill as being a real leg-pumper; but fifteen or so years later when I returned, the hill barely rose from level ground. It wasn’t that I had grown in height in those intervening years but somehow my experiences had yielded another perspective on the terrain. Revisiting childhood haunts and former experiences may offer surprise, disappointment, and a new perspective. Reynolds’ vignette is powerful in imagery and the narrator’s attempt to recapture youth. Enjoy it here at Writers Workshop Review.