amber service station

We had finally come across the Tree of Answers.  All of us, all of our combined experiences, goals, emotions and reasons for having come this far, and the answers for all of it lived right in front of us.  We decided that Korgo, a 7-year-old child from beyond the planet of Jupiter, was the wisest enough of all of us to ask any kind of question.  Korgo solemnly made his way to the front of the tree.  He spread his palms upwards and asked a question.  Some time passed and a supernatural feeling of the wind flowing through the branches of the Tree of Answers gave us alarm.  Eventually we knew that it was about to answer.  One leaf fell from a branch to the ground.  We turned and made our way out to wherever, or whatever, our respective ‘homes’ were or would be.  I saddled up next to Korgo, curious about him, before I would split off from the group.  “Were you satisfied with the answer?” I asked.  Korgo cocked his head to the side and thought for a minute.  Eventually, he said, “I guess there was nowhere else for the leaf to go.”