Minority

There's this tree near my house. It's a twig, basically, barely the size of a branch, and it's bright yellow-orange, the color of orange juice. The funny thing about it is that all the other trees around this one colorful one are dull and their leaves are gone. But this one just doesn't wanna let go.

I don't know. There's just something... I dunno, rebellious?, about this tree. The way all the leaves are still intact, while everything else is huddled close and shut up for the winter. This is what I think: If everyone did as they were told, did what was accepted, then we'd all be living in winter for the rest of our lives.

"A face in the crowd unsung, against the mold, without a doubt, singled out the only way I know." "Marching out of time to my own beat now, the only way I know." ""One light, one mind flashing in the dark, blinded by the silence of a thousand broken hearts."