The Perfect Tree.
Ever since she’d been a child she’d always wanted to go to a local tree farm to pick her own tree for christmas. There was something magical about the idea of going somewhere to pick out that perfect tree, the one that would fit just right in to your home, the one that felt like it had been grown just for you. This year was the first year that she was actually able to do it and whilst she had initially been so excited it had quickly turned into frustration and annoyance.
Finding the perfect tree was turning out to be much harder than she had originally thought that it would be. Currently she’d been at the tree farm for over an hour already and she was starting to get cold, tired, and frustrated. It didn’t help that she and her girlfriend, who normally agreed on pretty much everything, didn’t seem to be able to agree on what constituted as the perfect tree. The first tree she had liked was too squat according to her girlfriend, the next one her girlfriend had picked out, but it’s branches were awkwardly shaped at the bottom. The next one was too tall, and then too short, and then that one narrowed too quickly at the top. None of them were right.
At this point she was about ready to give in, to go home via the coffee shop to have hot chocolate with her girlfriend, to cuddle on the couch watching netflix. They could always buy a tree at the local garden centre the next day if they had to. This was their first Christmas together, and whilst the perfect tree would be nice, she was more bothered about getting to wake up on christmas morning next to the woman that she loved.
She was walking in the general direction of the exit, hand in hand with her girlfriend, when they came across a row that she didn’t remember going down before and she decided to give it one last try before they went home for the night. Luck must have been on her side, for there, right in the middle of the row was the perfect tree. This tree was the first one that she and her girlfriend had agreed, and it was beautiful.
It was less than ten minutes later that they were both sat in her girlfriend’s pick-up truck, the neatly cut tree resting in the truck bed, two cups of steaming hot chocolate resting in the cup holders between them.
A Place of Mine 