"The old witch at the end of the lane will turn you into a poplar tree if you set foot on her land."

Ren had heard those words when he'd been a child, and he heard them now coming from the children in the town's little plaza.

Was it the same witch, he wondered. Would it really so bad to be a poplar tree and not have aching knees and only graves to visit?

To stand in the sun and the rain and simply be...

Perhaps he'd go see if the old witch was still there at the end of the lane.

Perhaps he'd become a fine poplar tree indeed.