Withered

Father: A beatiful tree used to bloom in this verry spot. The towns folk used to gather and nurture it as a community. Oh the memories.

Son: What happened to it, dad?

Father: Time....Time, my son...thats what happened to it.

Son: Time?

Father: Yes my son. The towns folk eventually moved on. They didn't have time for the tree anymore. They abandoned it and let it wither.

Son: Where did towns folk all go?

Father: Son, I wish I had a clue.

Son: Dad, will they ever come back?

Father:..If they wanted to......If they had the time to...