Except for the Wood.  The forest surrounding the river had been on earth since the beginning of time, but nothing had pierced his heart the way Amorsolo’s music did.

The Wood carried the music in his arms and spread it throughout the forest.  He thought it was a pity the Sun could not hear it.  She was, as usual, preening on the river and had eyes only for herself.  The Wood chose not to intervene.

One day, he changed his mind.

In the middle of his serenade, Amorsolo suddenly stopped and looked at the Sun.  He had always imagined that she could see him, but today, he knew he was fooling himself.  In a fit of rage, he threw his instrument and it hit a boulder.  Amosolo looked in shock at the crack on its back, then buried his face in his arms. < previous | next >