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Tell me a story, please?
Alright Mr Crow here is yr story:

There was a tree, standing in a field. A strong tree among other trees, it had long healthy branches. It was tall, its leaves were green and stretching; and would stand proudly day after day. The leaves, they were all happy because they did not know of anything but trees. The trees were happy because they did not know about anything beyond their sun and dark earth and liquid through roots. They never wished for anything else. Good for them.

Only trees? No animals?

Only trees. And they were happy.

Somewhere near the tippy-toppest branch of the tree was a quivering anxious leaf. This leaf was young and fresh of course, a bright perky one always looking for more. Always watching, learning. Recently unfurled and breathing with all surfaces, he would try to drink more light and air than necessary. Because you never know, he thought. There might be more than trees out there, but I will not wish yet, he thought. I will not wish until I know what I am looking for.

One day, there came a bird, and he paused to rest on this tippy-toppest branch of the tree before swooping off again, dipping in and out of shaded branches. It was not scary but fascinating. Showoff.

And the leaves trembled and quivered as he'd glide close by them, but none so much as our little pal, the overeager one. Not overeager so much as alert. You can bet he wanted to fly more than anything, wooed by the rush of air and free swooping. All in a rustle by the idea of not being grounded, no roots. All that air.

So did he make his wish?

So the leaf made his wish and the wind tore him free, and it was glorious. Absolutely glorious for a while. And then slowly, sinking, wafting, he came back down. All the way down and died near the roots of his tree, and that is the end.

But I did not ask you for a sad story, I asked for a love story.

Sometimes the two are inseparable, you know.

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