Thick black mud squeezed up between Mary's bare toes. She sank deeper into her mother's flower garden, until the tops of her feet were obscured. She wiggled her toes, and the surface of the mud undulated. She imagined roots growing out of her feet, reaching deep into the earth to bring her nutrients.

She could feel her body absorbing energy from the sun.

She looked over to where her mother was weeding. "Look at me, Mommy, I'm turning into a tree!"

"Oh, honey, you're going to get mud all over your pretty new dress," her mother said.

"It doesn't matter. I won't need dresses when I'm a tree."

Her mother sighed and stood up. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." She wrapped her arms around Mary's waist and pulled.

Mary tried to hold on to the ground with her roots, but her mother was too strong. Sharp pain shot through her feet, and she started to scream. She popped out of the ground.

Her legs ended at the ankle. She felt herself shriveling up, dying like all the other weeds her mother pulled. "I was going to be a tree," she whispered.