Kindergarden

The trees are even-spaced on either side of the path. They exit the ground with calloused skin where bark would be. Short bristles on the skin perk at cold, shed in heat, grow as autumn winds its way to winter. Limbs branch from knotted joints. Free-flapping grafts of skin wave from the branches' forking fingers.

In springtime, bulbs of fruit sag heavy on the main trunk. The inner kicks crack the outer skin. The infants within draw breath from opened pods, rent by their struggles. Attendants stretch out soft nets to catch the newborns.

At the garden's entrance, a sign names this place:

Mrs. Landgrave's Kindergarden R&D Labs