The Spike Above the Head

In the city of the tree with one flower, there stood a great tree with a single, enormous bloom.

Most people had a spike fixed above their forehead; only a few did not.

To see the flower was everyone’s dream. But they could not, the spike stopped them from looking up.

Those without spikes saw the flower clearly and spoke of its beauty.

The rest tried, but when the spike pierced deeper, they stopped.

Some were not even aware of the spike, for they never tried looking up at all. They were content with the green grass under their feet.

I had the spike too. I tried looking up once... but I failed.

Many believed it was impossible, that only a chosen few could ever look up.

But one day, we saw a man forcing his head upward.

The spike cut through his skin; blood ran down his face.

Still, he didn’t stop.

Until, at last, the spike vanished.

And he looked up, smiling, tears in his eyes.

Surely, they were tears of joy.

Now everyone knew the spike’s truth.

But could they do the same?

No. They couldn’t... I can’t.