Two wise men walked in the dense forest that encircled their village. They took this walk once a week, and made a habit of visiting one tree in particular each time. It was an old oak tree. Tall and marked, it stood in a small, glassy clearing.
Throughout its life, the tree had been so viciously etched and inscribed by various members of the village that it barely looked like a tree at all. The trunk was hobbled and uneven, ridden with initials, messages, apologies and the sort, and the two wise men made it their duty to read every single engraving there. They were, after all, appointed by the village to do such work, to be wise, to know. Each new visit brought with it inscriptions never seen before.
"'Found one," the older wise man said. "'Time Spent With You is Time Never Wasted."
"This one says, 'I am very lonely," the younger wise man said.
"'I am the reason you're sick. Lawrence.'"
"'I love not man the less, but nature more.'"
"They are quite dull today, don't you think?" said the older wise man. He didn't feel like roaming about this morning. He'd rather be in bed, and his beard was far too long.
"What about this one?" the younger wise man asked. "'L. O. L.'" He paused and traced the engraving with his finger, as if the meaning was coded in touch. "What could that mean? Life or liberty? Love only lusts?"
"I believe, if I'm not mistaken," the older wise man said, "it stands for laughing out loud."
The younger wise man gasped. He had never heard such a thing before.
"My god, that's absolutely brilliant!"
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