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When she falls against me, her warm curvy body presses against my branches, and I can’t utter a word. Snowflakes sparkle in the sun as I emerge from the ground. We all twist shapes and start to shift. I can’t believe this is happening. She must be the one.
“What kind of curse?” “Here’s the deal. We were all players. We broke way too many hearts and one day we fucked up and broke the wrong heart. This chick put a curse on us. Turning us into Christmas trees, only letting us shift when a woman stumbled upon on us who we could truly love,”
“On New Year’s Day you will bury us in your backyard, with the magic sand, if you want us. If all our feelings are true, by December 2024 we can be released forever,” Bruce says, his eyes still don’t meet mine.
