The Tree House

"You can't join us." Charlie said to Karl. Charlie was sitting in the tree house his dad built for him a week ago. It smelled like freshly sawed wood and adventure and Karl was sure as hell not allowed to join him. He'd rather sit there alone. Karl was the neighbour kid. He was chubby and wore glasses and nobody picked him first for sports. He recently found out his parents weren't his real parents. That he was adopted. It'd been a big blow. Charlie came to Karl's house sometimes so they could do homework together, but Charlie would run off as soon as they finished. But for an hour or so Karl would feel like he had a friend. Karl's mum and Charlie's dad had had a chat over the hedge the day before and Charlie's dad had invited Karl to see Charlie's new tree house. But parents knew nothing about the children's interactions. For all they knew they were study buddies and good friends. But the thing was that Charlie was way up the food chain from Karl. And things would sadly always stay that way. Charlie would go on to have a great career and Karl would never aspire to much. Both because of how they were raised and what they were told they could acheive in life. Charlie would always be the one sitting in the fancy tree house of life and look down on poor Karl. Karl would grow up and think less and less about Charlie, the neighbour kid. He would simply live his life and try and maximize his opportunity at happiness like any other person who's ever lived on this silly planet. In the end the tree house fell apart and became part of the soil and so did Charlie and Karl, in their human ways of course. And none of this mattered. But in the moment it did. And all humans ever have are moments. And what Karl chose to do with the bully Charlie's tree house in the moment Karl was mocked was written about in the local news paper. He burned it down to the ground.